


Sweet Time

by CommanderNova



Series: Sweet Temptation [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Butt Plugs, Chastity Device, Cock Cages, Cock Warming, Collars, Daddy Kink, Dom/sub, Hand Jobs, Humiliation, Light Bondage, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Panties, Power Imbalance, Praise Kink, Spanking, Spitroasting, Under-negotiated Kink, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-06-20 23:14:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15544302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CommanderNova/pseuds/CommanderNova
Summary: Tony wants to take his time with Peter and decides to take him home for the weekend.---Sequel to Sweet Surrender





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this part got a little out of hand so i'll be posting it in multiple chapters and i'll update the tags as i go
> 
> thank you to the lovely anon who mentioned tony and steve keeping peter for the weekend, you really got the inspiration flowing

Generally when Peter entered Tony’s classroom he was expected to lock the door behind him and immediately take off his clothes, something that didn’t take long for Peter to get the hang of. He was a smart kid and a fast learner. So, when Peter walked into the room that friday afternoon, he locked the door and started to move to take off his t-shirt, but this time Tony stopped him, much to the kid’s surprise.

 

“I have different plans for you today, doll,” Tony said, voice low and dark as he walked up to Peter and pushed his shirt back down. The shiver that ran up Peter’s spine was hard to miss and the way the kid’s pupils dilated told him that he was as nervous as he was excited. “Here’s what we’re going to do: You’re going to call your aunt and tell her you’re going to stay the weekend at your friend Ted’s house-”

 

“It’s Ned,” Peter mumbled, but Tony ignored him. He’d punish him for interrupting him later.

 

“-then you’re going to grab all of your stuff out of your locker and meet me in the school parking lot. If anyone asks just tell them you didn’t have a ride home and I was nice enough to help you out.”

 

“Do you want me to stay with you the entire weekend?” Peter asks, a hint of excitement in his voice and Tony couldn’t help but smile a little.

 

“Yes,” he confirmed, “I think it would be nice to spend some time together without having to worry about being caught, wouldn’t you agree?”

 

“Yes, sir,” Peter replied, a delicate blush already covering his cheekbones, “Will Mr. Rogers be there?” Tony hadn’t really thought about that, but that was perhaps something to consider. They did have a very good time with the three of them, watching Peter get taken apart piece by piece by two of his teachers, making him sob and cry so perfectly, was definitely something he’d want to see happen again. He’d have to talk to Steve about that.

 

“We’ll see,” Tony replied, “After we get to my place I want you to undress completely and listen to every word I say, no complaining unless you need to use your safeword, understand?” Tony raised an eyebrow, staring Peter down. So far he hadn’t used his safeword yet and he kept surprising Tony by how much he could take, how far he could bend. He really hoped the boy didn’t think that Tony would be disappointed if he used his safeword though. “And I know we’ve had this conversation before, but I need you to not be afraid to use your safeword when you need to, I won’t think any less of you if you do,” Tony reassured, one hand on Peter’s shoulder.

 

“Yes, sir,” Peter repeated, not in a way to please Tony, but this time to actually confirm that he understood.

 

“Good boy.” Tony smiled and he noticed Peter squirm slightly. The way he reacted to praise was absolutely intoxicating, blushing so prettily. “Don’t get too excited though, you didn’t forget about your punishment, did you?” The surprised look on Peter’s face told him that he did forget about his punishment. “Peter.” Tony leaned in, easily slipping back into character, voice almost a growl. “I’m going to absolutely wreck you this weekend, I’m going to make you cry and beg for mercy, and you better hope I’m feeling generous.”

 

“Mr. Stark,” Peter whimpered, his eyes were closed and his hands were trembling slightly, but when Tony reached down, cupping Peter’s crotch with his hand, he could feel that the boy was hard. His hips stuttered slightly, trying to get some friction from Tony’s hand. It was adorable.

 

“God, you’re such a little slut, no matter how much you pretend to be a sweet, innocent little boy, I can see right through you, doll.” Tony bit down on Peter’s earlobe and Peter moaned weakly. “Go call your aunt,” Tony mumbled, leaning back and removing his hand, much to Peter’s dismay.

 

“Yes, sir.” Peter grabbed his phone with shaking hands and dialed the number.

 

It didn’t take long for Peter to convince her, at first she was a bit hesitant, but Peter was a ‘good boy’, so she probably didn’t have a reason not to trust him. Tony leaned back against his desk as he watched Peter talk to her, trying to keep his voice sound put together despite all the things Tony had just told him.

 

“Love you, May, I’ll see you on monday.” And with that Peter hung up, slipping his phone into his pocket again. “She’s fine with it,” Peter said with a slight smile.

 

“Good, go get your stuff, I’ll meet you in the parking lot.”

 

“Yes, sir,” Peter said quietly and rushed out of the classroom, backpack slung over his shoulder.

 

* * *

 

Nerves and anticipation made Peter’s body shake, despite, or maybe because of, Tony’s threats. It was exciting in a whole new way, spending the whole weekend at his teacher’s place with no clue what was in store. He secretly hoped Mr. Rogers would show up as well, he seemed to be the ‘nicer’ one of the two and he felt like he might need that, but then again, he didn’t really have a lot of information to go by.

 

On his way to grab his stuff he spotted Ned next to his own locker, much to his surprise, usually he left as soon as class had ended, not really one to stick around after school. This was good though, he could give Ned a heads up that he was using him as his alibi.

 

“Ned! Hey, can I talk to you for a bit?” Peter called out, catching his attention.

 

“I thought you had another appointment with Mr. Stark?”

 

“Yeah, well, something came up. Anyway, I kinda told my aunt that I’d be staying with you for the weekend,” Peter confessed.

 

“Oh, yeah, okay, I should probably ask my mom about tha-”

 

“No no no, I’m not actually staying with you, I just needed a believable excuse.”

 

“Wait, what are you doing then?” Ned asked, frowning slightly. “Does this have something to do with why you’ve been staying after school pretty much every day for the past weeks?”

 

“I… can’t really tell you right now, but maybe later.” He had no idea how Ned would react if he told him about what happened between him and Mr. Stark (and recently Mr. Rogers), but he didn’t really want Ned to tell anyone, so maybe it was better to keep it a secret.

 

“If it’s something stupid or dangerous,” Ned started, but Peter quickly tried to reassure him.

 

“No, it’s fine, I promise, but May would never let me do it if I told her the truth. Please just cover for me, Ned, just this one time,” Peter pleaded, giving Ned his best possible puppy dog eyes. He could see that Ned was close to giving in.

 

“If anything happens to you I’m telling your aunt.”

 

“You’re the best!” He pulled Ned into a hug. “Thank you!”

 

“Yeah, you’re welcome, don’t make me regret it,” Ned called after him as Peter practically sprinted off in the direction of his locker, not wanting to make Mr. Stark wait for him any longer than he had to.

 

* * *

 

Once Peter had collected all his stuff he quickly made his way over to the mostly empty parking lot, looking around to find Mr. Stark. It didn’t take him very long at all to spot him. He was leaning against an expensive looking black car with tinted windows, hands in his pockets and clearly waiting for him, so Peter rushed over as fast as he could.

 

“Hi, I’m sorry for taking so long, had to convince Ned to cover for me,” Peter panted softly, looking up at Mr. Stark.

 

“It’s alright. Get in the car, sweetheart.” Mr. Stark opened the door for him and Peter slid into the seat as fast as possible, putting his backpack down at his feet. He watched Tony walk around the car and get in the driver’s seat. The way he walked was calm and collected, but bubbling below the surface Peter could see the same excitement he felt coursing through his veins and even the nerves couldn’t compete with that.

 

“Where do you live?” Peter asked, trying to fill the silence between them with something, anything. It felt weird to be sitting in Mr. Stark’s car, he had no idea how to behave, the situation so clearly different from every other time they’d been together. He quietly hoped that it would be okay to be a bit more casual during this time, to just be the two of them. As much as he loved the arrangement he had going with Mr. Stark, he’d love to actually learn a little more about the man.

 

“You’ll see,” Mr. Stark said casually, one hand leaving the steering wheel to land high up on Peter’s thigh and Peter exhaled shakily. “How’re your grades?” he asked, “None of your teachers being too hard on you?” he added, as if he wasn’t barely an inch away from fondling Peter.

 

“The only teachers being hard on me are you and Mr. Rogers,” Peter said, barely even thinking as the words left his mouth. He immediately froze when he realized what he said, the hand on his thigh moving up half an inch.

 

“You’re so adorable,” Mr. Stark commented, a smile clear in his voice and Peter would’ve relaxed if Mr. Stark’s hand wasn’t playing with fire as it got closer to Peter’s crotch. “So, you’re doing good then?”

 

“Yes, sir, straight As,” he replied, voice breathier than he would’ve liked.

 

“That’s very good,” Mr. Stark praised, “you’re such a good boy, Peter.” Peter shivered at the words, barely holding back a quiet whimper. Mr. Stark was playing dirty and it was not fair. How was he supposed to think like this?

 

“Thank you, sir,” Peter whispered, his breathing steadily speeding up with every second that passed.

 

“Any class you like in particular?”

 

“Uh, I really like your cla-ass, sir.” Mid-sentence Mr. Stark’s hand cupped his crotch and Peter’s breath hitched at the sudden feeling.

 

“Of course you would.” Out of the corner of his eye Peter could see that Mr. Stark was trying to hide a smirk as he slowly started rubbing Peter through his jeans and Peter’s hips jerked slightly.

 

“N-no, not because of… y’know, but I a-actually like physics a lot,” Peter said quickly, voice pitched higher than he remembered and Mr. Stark had to have noticed it as well.

 

“I figured. You’re a smart kid, Pete,” Mr. Stark said, voice still casual while his fingers were pulling down Peter’s zipper. Peter had to close his eyes, not sure if he could continue looking.

 

“M-mr. Stark,” he whimpered, balling his fists tightly.

 

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Mr. Stark asked innocently, slipping his hand into Peter’s underwear and wrapping his fingers around his dick, not moving his hand at all. It was already driving him insane. The entire time his eyes remained firmly on the road, not even glancing at Peter once.

 

“Nothing,” Peter squeaked. He could feel his face heat up, colouring his skin pink.

 

“Are you sure? You don’t sound okay.” The concern in his voice would almost sound real, if it weren’t for the fact that Peter knew he had a stupid, smug look on his face, didn’t even need to see it to know it was there.

 

“I’m fi-ine!” Mr. Stark twisted his hand slightly and Peter thought he was going to cry.

 

“If you say so.”

 

For the rest of the ride Mr. Stark kept stroking him slowly, far too slow for Peter to get off, but enough friction to drive him mad with need. It was torture, desperation creeping up on him with every stroke, but just when Peter was about ready to start begging Mr. Stark stopped the car and his hand left Peter’s underwear. Peter was stuck somewhere between sighing in relief and crying in despair.

 

“Here we are, sweetheart,” Mr. Stark announced, carefully tucking Peter’s dick back into his underwear and pulling up the zipper, before patting his leg and getting out of the car. Peter had to take a couple deep breaths before he could finally open the door to follow Mr. Stark inside.

 

The first thing he noticed was that Mr. Stark’s house was big, far bigger than anyone with a teacher’s salary should be able to afford and Peter couldn’t help but stare at it. His own tiny apartment looked like nothing compared to that.

 

He didn’t get a lot of time to stare though, because Mr. Stark put a hand on his lower back and guided him towards the front door and into the hallway. It took him awhile to remember Mr. Stark’s instructions, too enraptured by actually being inside Mr. Stark’s house, but a stern look quickly got Peter’s brain back on track and he started to strip down.

 

Mr. Stark was staring at him the entire time and he could feel his eyes roaming across his body, examining every inch. It only got worse when Peter was done and stood up straight, hands behind his back as he waited for further instructions.

 

“I’ll never get tired of seeing you like this, all pretty and vulnerable for me, your little dick hard and leaking. Too bad I’m going to have to punish you, doll,” Tony whispered, breath hot against Peter’s neck and Peter shivered. “Pick up your clothes and follow me,” he ordered, and Peter was helpless to obey.

 

Peter struggled to keep up with Mr. Stark, he walked quick and with a purpose and Peter’s body was so wracked with nerves that he kept almost tripping over his own feet.

 

Mr. Stark’s bedroom was nice, a large bed sitting in the center, silky sheets draped over the mattress and Peter had to resist the urge to let himself fall down on it for what would most likely be the best nap in his entire young life. Somehow he didn’t think Mr. Stark would appreciate that though.

 

“Fold your clothes and kneel on the bed, sweetheart. I got you a gift.” Something in Peter’s guts told him that he most likely wouldn’t like the gift. Mr. Stark was supposed to be punishing him after all, so the chance of him actually receiving a gift that was for his enjoyment was pretty damn low.

 

Despite his nerves about the situation, he was still very curious about what it was, so he folded his clothes as quickly and neatly as possible and kneeled on the bed. The silky sheets slid over his skin and once again Peter wondered where the hell Mr. Stark got all his money.

 

“Close your eyes, doll,” Mr. Stark ordered and Peter immediately did, hearing steady footsteps move closer to the bed until he knew Mr. Stark was standing right in front of him. A hand smoothed up his thigh and Peter shivered, but didn’t move. “You’re going to like this. You can open your eyes.”

 

It took Peter a couple seconds to notice what Mr. Stark was holding after he had opened his eyes, but once he did his breath caught in his throat. Resting in Mr. Stark’s hand was a pale pink strip of leather with a shiny silver buckle and a little heart-shaped tag. A collar. Mr. Stark was holding a collar with the clear intent of putting it around Peter’s neck. The tag was engraved with the words ‘Property of A. Stark’ and Peter’s brain short-circuited.

 

“I’m going to put it on you now, okay?” Mr. Stark asked, tipping Peter’s chin up slightly and all Peter could do was nod, entirely at a loss for words. Steady hands fastened the collar around his neck, tight enough for him to feel it, but loose enough so he’d still be able to breathe normally. It marked him as Mr. Stark’s property, something he owned that no money could buy and he tried to hide the way all the blood in his body rushed towards his dick at that thought. “You like it?” Mr. Stark whispered, breath hot against his ear and Peter felt his cheeks heat up.

 

“Yes, sir,” Peter responded quietly, awe leaking into his voice as he reached up to touch the supple leather wrapped around his throat.

 

“I really shouldn’t be rewarding you, but I thought you needed a reminder of exactly who you belong to.” Mr. Stark tugged on the collar slightly, making Peter lean towards him. “Fuck, you look so pretty. I wish I could keep you like this all the time,” he confessed, scraping his teeth over the pale skin of Peter’s throat.

 

“Me, too,” Peter gasped, shivering when he felt Mr. Stark’s hand high up on his thigh, tracing patterns with his fingers and making him erupt in goosebumps.

 

“I have another gift for you.”

 

“Y-you do?” he asked, staring at Mr. Stark in anticipation and slight disbelief. Mr. Stark just hummed in agreement, walking towards his nightstand and grabbing a small box from the drawer. Peter was practically vibrating with nerves and excitement as Mr. Stark handed the box over to him, he genuinely had no idea what to expect.

 

“Open it, sweetheart.” Peter didn’t have to be told twice. He carefully took the lid off the box, frowning a little when he couldn’t immediately identify what it was. In the box was a small piece of white lace fabric and oh. Carefully he took the fabric out of the box and suddenly he recognized what he was holding. Soft lace panties, so small and delicate and practically see-through. His blush traveled down to his chest at the thought of putting them on, never really considering it as an option until then, but Mr. Stark was looking at him expectantly, so he got up on shaking legs and slid the fabric up over his thighs.

 

They were so tight, not hiding a damn thing, so different from the underwear he was used to and despite the burning humiliation, he felt his dick start to leak again, precum staining the front of the panties..

 

“When I bought them I thought they might be a little too small for you, but I should’ve known better.” Mr. Stark was looking between his legs, clearly hinting at how his hard cock barely tented the fabric and Peter desperately wanted to hide his face. “Such a cute little thing,” Mr. Stark mumbled, tracing a finger over the lace edge of the panties.

 

“Thank you for the gifts, sir,” Peter said quietly, his voice trembling just a little.

 

“It’s a gift for me as well, doll. I love seeing you all dressed up for me.” The dark, hungry look in Mr. Stark’s eyes made Peter want to drop down to his knees in front of the man and take everything he was willing to offer, so desperate for his approval.

 

“Now,” Mr. Stark started, and Peter immediately recognized the serious tone. He was definitely in trouble. “punishment. Do you know why I’m going to be punishing you?”

 

“Because I came without permission,” Peter whispered, unable to meet Mr. Stark’s eyes.

 

“Exactly. So I think it’s only fair that as part of your punishment you don’t get to cum for the rest of the weekend, wouldn’t you agree?” Mr. Stark raised an eyebrow and Peter felt a shiver run down his spine. Not being allowed to cum for a whole weekend was bad enough when he was on his own, but with Mr. Stark being able to touch him as much as he wanted to, whenever he wanted to, there was no way he would survive.

 

“Yes, sir,”

 

“Do you think you can do that?”

 

“I don’t know,” Peter said softly, looking down at the floor.

 

“If you can’t I’ll just have to find a way to help you out.” Mr. Stark made it sound like a nice gesture, a favour even, but somehow Peter had the sinking suspicion that it wasn’t going to be nice at all.

 

"Remember the first time I had you bent over my desk?" Mr. Stark asked, and Peter could only nod. He very vividly remembered that day, remembered Mr. Stark telling him to strip down before forcing him to bend over. He had jerked off to that memory that very same day, would've jerked off to it more often if he hadn't been strictly forbidden to do so, because clearly Mr. Stark loved to see him suffer. "You looked so pretty, tears streaking your face, your lip quivering and your ass all bruised and red. Like a wet dream come true, doll. I think we should relive that memory, don't you think?"

 

Spanking, he should've seen it coming. Peter had discovered that he liked being spanked up to a certain degree, but after that it definitely became a punishment. Mr. Stark had crossed that fine line the first time, reducing Peter to a sobbing, trembling mess, begging for mercy. He liked to think he could handle pain very well, but he had a feeling Mr. Stark was about to prove him wrong and this was not going to be a fun experience. It wasn’t supposed to be.

 

"Put your hands behind your back," he ordered and Peter immediately did, crossing his wrists obediently. From a drawer Mr. Stark grabbed a black tie, the fabric of it shiny and soft looking and Peter had no doubt that he was going to wrap it around his wrist. That thought really shouldn't have excited him as much as it did, especially not when he was about to be punished, but he was still so hard it was almost painful.

 

The tie felt as soft as it looked, silky against the sensitive skin of his wrists. Mr. Stark was very diligent with tying his wrists together, making sure it was firm, but wouldn't constrict blood flow or be painful in any way.

 

"Give it a tug." Mr. Stark's eyes were dark again, that animalistic edge to it that made Peter feel just as afraid as he felt aroused and he quickly complied, tugging on his bonds to test if it would hold. It did. "Perfect. Get on the bed, on your knees."

 

As soon as he was in the right position he felt a hand push between his shoulder blades, guiding him down until his cheek was pressed against the sheets and his ass was pushed out.  At that point he was practically vibrating with nerves, eyes squeezed shut as he anticipated Mr. Stark's next move.

 

"God, you're such a pretty sight. I want to have you on your knees all the time. It's what you were made to do, doll, made to be claimed and owned and taken." Peter shivered at the dark, possessive words, never imagining that it would get to him as much as it did. He figured it should probably scare him a little, and maybe it did, but at that moment all he could feel was arousal coursing through his veins.

 

"Please, sir," he whimpered. He so desperately wanted to get fucked, wanted to feel Mr. Stark inside of him, making him scream and cry until his voice went raw, but a harsh slap on his ass shook him out of his fantasy and brought him back to reality.

 

“No complaining, sweetheart or I will have to gag you." Peter felt his dick twitch slightly. “Stay still for me,” Mr. Stark ordered as he walked around the bed and towards the nightstand again. Peter could hear the drawer open and the familiar sound of a lube bottle being opened made him relax a little, dropping down to his elbows and pushing his ass up. “Needy little slut,” Mr. Stark chastised with another slap to Peter’s exposed backside.

 

The panties were pulled to the side, exposing his hole and Peter shivered when he felt one slick finger tease around his rim, circling slowly, before finally pushing in all the way. He only barely managed to resist the urge to push his hips back into the touch. It wasn't enough, he needed more, but Mr. Stark wasn't going to give it to him, clearly wanting him to suffer.

 

One finger became two and it quickly became obvious that Mr. Stark was avoiding his prostate at all costs, making sure Peter wouldn't be getting the pleasure that he wanted. In a way Peter was grateful, he didn't want to be tempted to cum when he wasn't allowed to and potentially dig himself into an even deeper hole, but the part of him that didn't entirely recognize the blessing in disguise was about ready to start begging for more.

 

He could feel his breathing speeding up when Mr. Stark added a third finger, the stretch of it burning slightly, but thankfully nothing he wasn't used to. He subconsciously tugged at the restraints around his wrist, if he was any stronger he would’ve probably torn right through them, but as it was it only made him look a little pathetic and he hoped Mr. Stark would notice the silent plea.

 

"What do you want, sweetheart?" his husky voice whispered, making Peter close his eyes and let out a soft cry.

 

"Please fuck me, sir, please, I want to feel you inside me," he pleaded, his voice inching towards desperate as he pushed his ass back against the three fingers filling him up so perfectly.

 

"I don't know if you deserve to be fucked, I’m supposed to be punishing you after all." Mr. Stark sounded like he was considering it, but by the tone of his voice Peter could tell that he already lost this battle.

 

"I'm sorry, sir, please, please, I promise I'll be good," he begged again.

 

Suddenly the fingers were gone, leaving Peter empty and spread open on the bed, so desperate for more. "You feel empty, sweetheart?" His voice was almost soothing, pitying, and Peter let out a pathetic whine. "Don't worry, I'll fill you up again." Peter felt his breathing stop and his heart rate speed up tenfold, maybe he'd get lucky and Mr. Stark would give in to his pleas.

 

Those hopes and dreams were quickly shattered though when he felt the unforgiving hardness of a slick, silicon toy pressed against his rim. The last time Mr. Stark made him wear a plug he had cum in his pants and got himself into this whole mess in the first place, he really didn't want to repeat that again.

 

The toy slid in smoothly, only slightly wider than 3 fingers and Peter groaned as he felt his muscles close around the widest part. He was filled up, but not in the way he wanted to.

 

"There, feel better, sweetheart?"

 

"Yes, sir," Peter whimpered, eyes closed as he rocked back against the plug, hoping to get some stimulation against his prostate, but finding that the toy wasn't big enough to reach it. It was torture.

 

"Good boy," Mr. Stark smoothed a hand up Peter's back and Peter found himself leaning into the touch almost desperately, like a needy animal begging for attention, begging for praise. Something about Mr. Stark brought something out in him, something from deep inside him, the need to be good, the need to please someone.

 

The hand made its way back down until it was resting on the curve of his ass, teasing along the lace edge of the panties. "Such a pretty boy," he mumbled, before lifting his hand and bringing it down hard on his sensitive flesh.

 

A cry erupted from Peter's throat at the unexpected pain, his body starting to tremble, heat radiating from his ass as he felt Mr. Stark trace the pink skin lightly.

 

The second slap was still startling, but this time Peter had expected the pain, so he only let out a quiet whimper into the soft bed sheets, arching his back in an attempt to move away from the burning sensation.

 

After that the hits started coming in a steady rhythm, allowing Peter to anticipate the time between smacks and giving him something to hold onto. He was grateful for the rhythm, but it also made him nervous, he knew exactly what was coming and he knew it would be pain. It hurt so badly, a little more each time, and Mr. Stark showed no sign of stopping.

 

The moans and whimpers that escaped from his lips were close to pathetic and Mr. Stark seemed to revel in it, loving the way Peter cried out for him, the way he tried to squirm away from his hand and tugged on the bonds around his wrist. All his struggles were in vain though, because there was nowhere for him to go, so all he could do was stay still and take it as Mr. Stark kept spanking him until his flesh turned pink and red.

 

Peter hadn't kept count of the hits, but he knew that at some point he started crying, sobs shaking his chest and tears streaking his cheeks, the pain slowly becoming too much to bear and Peter felt himself starting to break.

 

"Mr. Stark," Peter sobbed, voice muffled by the soft sheets, fingers clenching and unclenching. "I'm so-sorry!" His eyes were closed and he was shaking all over as he once again tried to move away from the relentless pain that Mr. Stark was supplying, but a firm hand on his hip forced him to stay in place.

 

"Stay still," Mr. Stark almost growled, 'You're going to have to take your punishment like a big boy, or I will make it much worse, understand?"

 

"Y-yes, sir," Peter whimpered, more tears spilling down his cheeks when Mr. Stark grabbed his ass firmly, making Peter clench around the plug inside of him. The slight tease of pleasure made his cock twitch, but it couldn't compete with the deep ache that was forcing the sobs from his chest.

 

"What are you sorry for?"

 

"I-I'm sorry fo-or cumming without permission, s-sir," Peter hiccuped. He wailed when Mr. Stark brought his hand down again, his sobs turning almost violent.

 

"Are you going to do it again?" Another harsh slap. It hurt so deeply and thoroughly that all Peter could do was cry and _take it._

 

"N-no, sir!"

 

"Are you going to take the rest of your punishment like a good boy and not beg me to let you cum this weekend?" Peter wasn't sure how much more he could take.

 

"I-I'll be good," he whispered, voice raw and trembling.

 

"Good." One final slap and Peter felt himself collapse on the sheets, shoulders heaving and tears staining the sheets as he cried.

 

Faintly he felt a hand trail up and down his back again, the touches so soft and gentle, a stark contrast to the harshness of the spanking. "I'm sorry, sir," Peter whimpered, barely moving as he felt Mr. Stark remove the tie from around his wrist, softly rubbing the bruised area.

 

"You were very good for me, doll, you're a very good boy," Mr. Stark said softly, running a hand through Peter's hair before turning him around to lie on his back. Peter winced at the pain and whined, letting out another sob.

 

"Thank you, sir." Tears were wiped away from his cheeks and Peter sniffled quietly, surprised at how gentle Mr. Stark was being.

 

"Are you okay?"

 

"Yes, sir," Peter confirmed weakly, just enjoying the feeling of Mr. Stark's hand stroking his head, the feeling of it making him almost sleepy, ready to doze off on the bed that was so much more comfortable than his own.

 

"We're not done yet, sweetheart, we still have the whole weekend ahead of us and I plan on getting the most out of our time together." Mr. Stark said, the hand tightening in his hair and tugging lightly and all Peter could do was moan quietly and let it happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> steve will show up in the next chapter, for anyone who's wondering
> 
> please leave a comment if you enjoyed it! (or have any suggestions/requests for future parts)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did this chapter get out of hand? absolutely. 
> 
> Again, thank you to the lovely commenters who keep on inspiring me to make this series even kinkier than it already is, you guys are my heroes.

Mr. Stark stayed with him for a while after he had collapsed on top of the bed sheets, every part of him aching and straining. He didn't need to look to see how bruised his ass was, stained red from the force of Mr. Stark's hand. As much as it was a punishment, it had also felt kind of good to be so completely at someone else's mercy, something he had gotten accustomed to over the several weeks he'd been with Mr. Stark.

 

The hand that stroked over his pale skin, unmarked by pain, was soothing and soft, forcing him to calm his breathing. Eventually the quiet sobs stopped and the tears had dried up. Only then did Mr. Stark start moving again, slowly getting up from his position on the bed, his hand leaving Peter's body. Peter couldn't help but whine at the loss.

 

Mr. Stark's gentle but firm voice filled the air and Peter automatically felt himself tense up. "Don't you have some homework to do, sweetheart? I would hate for you to get behind on your schoolwork just because I decided to take you home." Oh no, _ oh no oh no oh no _ , Mr. Stark was  _ not _ going to make him do homework with his ass aching and a collar around his neck. There was no way he would be able to focus, especially not with the plug filling him up. Peter was about ready to cry, needy and desperate.

 

"I do, sir," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. He could've lied, said he didn't have anything to do, but considering Mr. Stark's class was one of the classes he had homework for there was no way he was going to get away with it.

 

"Alright, get up, you can work at the kitchen table." Peter got up on shaking legs, feeling the plug move inside him with every step he took and he would've fallen down the stairs if it weren't for Mr. Stark's strong hand wrapped around his arm.

 

"Be careful, I don't want you to get hurt." He was being so soft and caring, as if he wasn't torturing Peter at all, and it drove him absolutely insane.

 

"Mr. Stark, I-I need-" he started, but the dark look in Mr. Stark's eyes made his heart stop momentarily.

 

"I decide what you need, doll, so just do what I tell you to and everything will be fine." His hand settled on Peter's lower back and he gently guided him towards the hallway where his bag was still sitting on the floor, before showing him towards the kitchen. "I also have some work to do, tests to grade so annoying teenagers don't complain about how long it takes me to hand them back." Peter could hear the playful edge to his voice and he felt a blush creep up on his cheeks.

 

"Yes, sir, I'll be quiet."

 

"Good boy." And with that Mr. Stark sat down at the kitchen table, entirely ignoring Peter as he got settled in as well, the plug jostling uncomfortably when he sat down was almost nothing compared to the pain he felt in his ass, making it nearly impossible for him to sit still. He had no idea how he was going to focus, what he was going to do, all he could think about was how he could feel the collar around his neck every time he swallowed, the cool air on his exposed skin and the slightly uncomfortable feeling of the tight panties that were trapping his dick.

 

His hand was shaking as he picked up a pen and he had to read over the same paragraph in his textbook at least 6 times before he managed to absorb any of the information. If Mr. Stark was going to make him finish his homework before they continued, then it was going to be a very long afternoon.

 

He didn't know he had expected Mr. Stark to play with him in some way during this time until after an hour of complete silence nothing had happened yet. The plug didn't magically start vibrating, he hadn't felt a hand slowly move up his thigh, no surprises whatsoever and somehow that made it even more frustrating.

 

Eventually he managed to force himself into the zone and get at least a little bit done without spacing out every 5 seconds. It helped that Mr. Stark wasn't looking at him at all, too caught up in his own work to be distracted by Peter.

 

Just as he was getting to the point where he could actually get his work done he could feel the air shift, the sound of chair legs scraping against kitchen tiles made him startle and suddenly Mr. Stark was behind him, running his hands up his sides.

 

"Did you get some work done, baby boy?"

 

"Yes, sir," Peter whispered, the grip on his pencil tightening slightly.

 

"I was going to let you work, but the way you look when you're all focused is just too cute to resist, especially with this around your neck." Fingers trailed over the pink leather and Peter's eyes fluttered shut.

 

"Mr. Stark..." he breathed out, knowing how needy and desperate he must've sounded, but unable to care.

 

The hand that wasn't on his neck trailed down his chest, fingertips just barely dipping into the waistband of his panties, teasing over the head of his dick. It took every ounce of self control Peter had to not force Mr. Stark's hand further into the underwear.

 

"Get up and come with me, you can finish your homework later if you need to." Before Peter even had a chance to respond, Mr. Stark was already walking away, so Peter followed as quickly as possible, trying to ignore the feeling of being full as he walked.

 

Walking up the stairs was almost as bad as walking down them, every step sending a mixture of pleasure and pain shooting through his body, sweet, perfect torture with every movement.

 

Mr. Stark was as calm and collected as always, his moves purposeful and steady, so very different from the shaking mess Peter presented himself as. The power of the man just oozed off of him, filled the air enough to choke Peter with it. It was intoxicating, in a way, he felt small and delicate next to Mr. Stark, only wanting to prove how good he could be, how he could make him proud, and he quickly found that Mr. Stark’s approval meant everything to him.

 

The power dynamics were clear, Mr. Stark was in charge, he always was in charge, in the classroom and now also in his own home, he was even in charge in Peter's home, telling him when and if he could get off. Peter was completely under his control, every minute of every day and it felt  _ good _ to not have to think when he was around Mr. Stark, he only had to obey.

 

"C'mon, doll, on the bed." Mr. Stark's voice broke through Peter's inner monologue, bringing him back to the here and now. It was impossible to ignore the command, even if he wanted to he didn't think he could, so he slowly moved to lie down on the bed, his head on the soft, fluffy pillows and his eyes pointed firmly at the ceiling. "You look so pretty like this," Mr. Stark said, one hand smoothing up Peter's thigh, "Put your hands above your head, don't move them unless I tell you to, okay?"

 

"Yes, sir," Peter breathed, his voice uneven, shaking with anticipation, but he wouldn't dream of disobeying.

 

"Good boy." The praise made him shiver, pleasure pooling in the pit of his stomach at those two simple words. He felt his cock twitch slightly, already interested in the proceedings despite Mr. Stark's promise that he wouldn't let him cum this weekend. It was the closest thing to torture Peter might experience, but he would never admit to anyone, not even himself, that he kind of liked it.

 

"I want to fuck you so bad, I've had to wait all day." Peter thought about pointing out that Mr. Stark was the one who made himself wait, but he figured he'd use the last shreds of self preservation he had and wisely kept his mouth shut. Instead, he just spread his legs slightly, an invitation as clear as glass and when he glanced over to Mr. Stark he could see his eyes darken.

 

The bed dipped when Mr. Stark kneeled down between Peter's legs, hands high up on his thighs, his fingers moving so dangerously close to where Peter needed them to be, a teasing touch to remind Peter of what he couldn't have.

 

A quiet whimper escaped from his throat when he felt Mr. Stark pull the lacy fabric to the side and tug on the plug that was filling his aching hole, desperate to be filled by more than a silicon toy.

 

"You're all mine, sweetheart," Mr. Stark whispered, pulling the plug out enough so the widest part was keeping him stretched open and Peter let out another needy noise.

 

"All yours," he replied, chewing on his lip as he focused on the ceiling again. There was no way he could look at Mr. Stark right now, not without getting impossibly, desperately aroused.

 

The toy slipped free a few moments later, leaving Peter empty again, his hole clenching uselessly around nothing. He needed Mr. Stark to touch him, desired much more than just the few points of contact from his fingers still tracing over his thigh.

 

"Lift your hips for a moment," he ordered and Peter immediately did as told, still unable to look as Mr. Stark slipped the panties over his ass and down his legs, before dropping them to the floor to be forgotten. "There you are." His voice was soft, adoring almost and Peter felt a blush spread down all the way to his nipples.

 

The fingers left his thigh to trace over his cock, teasing over the head to collect some of the precum that Peter had started to leak, dripping like a faucet.

 

"So wet," Mr. Stark mumbled, "Your cute little dick is always so wet for me, aching for release." The words were spoken with an edge of cruelty to them and if Peter hadn't been ordered to keep his hands above his head, he would've probably tried to cover his face with them. As it was he just settled for closing his eyes and inhaling shakily, his limbs trembling with want.

 

"Such a pretty thing, so small and perfect for me, baby." This time Mr. Stark looked up at him, eyes dark and hungry and Peter couldn't get away with not looking anymore. The eye contact was excruciating in a way, the humiliating words that accompanied it not making it any better, yet somehow he felt himself get even harder, spilling more fluid on Mr. Stark's fingers.

 

"You like that, don't you? When I talk about you like that." A barely there grin formed on Mr. Stark's face, a sign that he knew exactly how Peter was feeling, how the words were affecting him, but he was waiting for an answer anyway.

 

"Yes, sir," Peter all but whimpered, fingers clenching and unclenching above his head and he wished Mr. Stark would just get on with it instead of drawing it out endlessly, making him suffer in more ways than one.

 

"You like it when I humiliate your little dick? Tell you how cute and sweet and pink your little baby cock is?" The grin widened and Peter felt arousal shoot up his spine at the words. All he could do was nod, but Mr. Stark didn't seem satisfied with that. "I need you to say it, doll, I need to hear how much you like it."

 

Peter whined, shame burning hot on his face. He wasn’t sure if he could physically get the words out of his mouth, but Mr. Stark was still waiting, his face calm and collected, but his eyes burning.

 

"I-I like it, sir," Peter whispered.

 

"You're going to need to be more specific than that." Peter’s breath hitched and he swallowed thickly.

 

“I like it when- when you h-humiliate my-” Another shaky breath and it was clear Mr. Stark wasn’t going to do anything until Peter did as he was told. “I like it when you humiliate my little dick,” he forced out in a rush of air, the words tangling together, tripping over each other in his hurry to speak them. Technically Mr. Stark had been complimenting him, but Peter never cared much for technicalities and the point Mr. Stark was trying to bring across rang loud and clear. No matter how sugary sweet the words were, his goal was to humiliate Peter. It was working very well, and, more importantly; Peter liked it.

 

“Good boy.” Mr. Stark’s finger was rubbing circles over the head of his cock and Peter had to try his hardest not to buck into the touch. “I think I’ll fuck you now.” Peter let out a sigh of relief, almost forgetting that he wouldn’t be allowed to cum.

 

The finger left his dick and moved down to his wet, abused hole, slick with lube. “I could just slide right in,” Mr. Stark mumbled as he pushed one finger past the rim.  Peter moaned weakly and only with great difficulty did he manage to stay completely still, briefly clenching around the digit sliding inside of him.

 

"Please," he whimpered, feeling his breathing starting to speed up at the promise of being fucked and Mr. Stark didn't look like he needed to be told twice.

 

The lube bottle was conveniently sitting on the nightstand, allowing Mr. Stark to easily reach for it and slick up his cock. Peter wanted to say that it wasn't necessary, that he was wet and loose enough to be able to take it, but Mr. Stark was nothing if not careful, so instead Peter just let out another soft whine, an indication of how badly he needed it.

 

Strong hands settled on his hips, grounding him and keeping him in place, the heat of skin on skin making Peter sigh.

 

"So gorgeous," Mr. Stark murmured as he pressed the head of his dick against Peter's sensitive hole and slowly, torturously slowly, started to push into Peter's wet heat. The stretch burned a little, Mr. Stark's dick quite a bit larger than the plug, but he enjoyed the sharp edge of pain as Mr. Stark carved a place out for himself.

 

"Need more, please," Peter whined, his own fingers clutching the headboard so he wouldn't be tempted to move his hands, wanting to run his nails down Mr. Stark's back, mark him with deep red lines in an attempt to claim him as well. He wanted to be good, he was going to be good, but temptation was just around the corner and Peter had never been good at impulse control.

 

The slow, aching drag continued, time almost appearing to slow down as Mr. Stark pushed into him, filling him up so perfectly, until he couldn't think about anything but Mr. Stark's dick inside of him. "I decide what you need, doll." It shouldn't have been as hot as it was to hear those words, but the possessiveness and blatant ownership surrounding the words made Peter's face flush even darker. “Fuck, you’re so perfect, so hot and wet,” Mr. Stark groaned.

 

His dick was achingly hard, still leaking precum all over pale skin and just the simple fact that Peter knew it wasn't going to be getting any attention made it so much harder.

 

Finally, after what seemed like ages of Mr. Stark barely moving, he started to pull out again, setting a slow rhythm that made Peter want to beg for more. Everything always started slow with Mr. Stark, soft touches, teasing words, and before Peter knew it he was in far too deep, Mr. Stark's hands the only thing keeping him from drowning.

 

This was no exception, the slow movements gradually made way for hard thrusts that forced Peter's body back on the sheets every time, his hands around the headboard the only thing keeping him in place. Peter had barely even noticed the shift, all he knew was that suddenly Mr. Stark was pounding him into the mattress, his hands tightening on Peter's hips hard enough to leave bruises and gasping moans left Peter's lips in an almost continuous stream of noise.

 

It was perfect, the head of Mr. Stark's dick nudging against Peter's prostate in a way the plug couldn't, forcing pleasure up his spine like he was being struck by lightning and it was almost too much for him to bear. He wanted to touch himself,  _ needed  _ to touch himself, desperate to feel sweet release wash over him, his body going limp under Mr. Stark's, but instead he was going to be left hanging.

 

"Please!" Peter cried out, arching his back off the bed and wrapping his ankles around Mr. Stark's waist, trying to pull him in closer, to get him to fuck him even harder, until he couldn't do anything but moan and cry and beg, a desperate, whimpering mess.

 

"Fuck," Mr. Stark groaned out, his hair messy and his skin slick with sweat. He moved one hand down to Peter's thigh to spread them even more and Peter happily obliged, letting Mr. Stark move him around as much as he pleased.

 

"Mr. Stark, sir, I-" Another loud moan cut Peter off when Mr. Stark expertly hit his prostate again and Peter felt a familiar heat pool in the pit of his stomach. If Mr. Stark kept this up he was going to cum untouched, without a doubt, but every attempt to warn him was quickly ruined by the gasps and cries that couldn't help but spill from his lips.

 

"P-please, sir, I can't- I'm so-" He gasped out, but Mr. Stark didn't seem to be paying much attention, too focused on making Peter lose his mind. "Sir!" He cried, desperation raising the pitch of his voice, but at that point it was already too late, and barely two thrusts later Peter was cumming all over himself, his release dripping down his dick and covering his skin. He was pretty sure he could cry.

 

The worst part was the look he got from Mr. Stark, the disappointment filling his eyes. He'd thought Mr. Stark would punish him pretty much immediately, but he just kept fucking into Peter's oversensitive body. 

 

Peter's breath hiccupped slightly, tears welling up in his eyes, not just from the overstimulation, but also from the feeling of knowing he had disappointed Mr. Stark. After that it didn't take long before genuine sobs started shaking his shoulders, tears spilling down his flushed cheeks.

 

It was clear Mr. Stark was close as well, his breathing getting heavier and more and more groans mingled with the sound of Peter's sobs. Normally Peter would've begged for Mr. Stark to fill him up, loving the feeling of cum oozing out of his sloppy hole, but he couldn't speak through his cries and sniffles and he didn't want to make the situation any worse for himself, so he just stayed silent and allowed Mr. Stark to use him as he pleased.

 

"Fuck," Mr. Stark gasped, his hands shook and his hips stuttered slightly, losing the steady rhythm he had built up, not much later Peter felt liquid heat fill him up, coating his insides and spilling down his thighs. He didn't enjoy it as much as he normally would though, the threat of punishment looming over him as Mr. Stark pulled out of his sore hole.

 

"I'm so-sorry, sir," Peter sobbed, eyes squeezed shut and knuckles white from how tightly he was clenching his fists.

 

"Oh believe me, doll, you will be," Mr. Stark said, his hand sliding up Peter's chest to grip his chin tightly. "Get up, you've made such a mess of yourself, sweetheart, let me help you clean up." Peter nodded and desperately attempted to get up without wobbling too much, his legs feeling unsteady as his feet hit the floor.

 

Mr. Stark guided him to the bathroom and Peter found himself leaning against the wall for support as he watched Mr. Stark take off his clothes piece by piece, dropping them to the floor. After he was done he moved to Peter and carefully took the collar off. Peter felt a little confused, wondering if taking the collar away was going to be his punishment, but Mr. Stark quickly quelled his worries.

 

"Wouldn't want it to get wet," he explained, "Now, get in the shower," he ordered and there was no arguing with that tone of voice, so Peter pushed himself off the wall and stepped into the shower, hissing in surprise when Mr. Stark followed him and turned on the hot spray of water.

 

At first Peter had tried to clean himself, but Mr. Stark had quickly stopped him and taken over, his soapy hands roaming over every inch of his body in a way that felt almost detached. It wasn't meant to be erotic, it was meant to get the job done and move on. One quick stroke to his dick had Peter's knees buckling, but the hand was gone as fast as it came and Peter only barely held back a whimper.

 

He couldn't speak, his throat closed up from the nerves, Mr. Stark wasn't speaking to him beyond what was necessary anyway and Peter couldn't tell if he should feel grateful or even more nervous. Whatever punishment Mr. Stark was thinking of was probably going to make Peter regret disobeying him even more.

 

After Mr. Stark was done cleaning Peter, he moved on to wash his own body, leaving Peter to lean against the wall and just wait, wait for him to be done, wait for his punishment. At least he was clean though, all the sweat and cum and lube that had been dripping down his stomach and thighs was definitely uncomfortable.

 

The shower was turned off and a towel was handed to him. The cold air hitting his skin made him shiver and he started to dry himself off as fast as possible, not wanting to keep Mr. Stark waiting.

 

He hadn't gotten permission to put on any clothes, so he followed Mr. Stark back to the bedroom and sat down on the edge of the bed to watch as he got dressed. The nervous anticipation for what's to come making his breathing speed up slightly.

 

"Now, what am I going to do with you?" Mr. Stark asked, walking up to where Peter was sitting on the bed, still fully naked. It was nerve wracking to be so exposed while Mr. Stark was entirely dressed.It seemed to be a theme, a way to make it very clear that Mr. Stark was in charge and that Peter wasn’t, but despite that Peter didn't think he'd be able to get used to it.

 

"I'm sorry," Peter replied quietly, eyes focused on his hands in his lap, fingers fidgeting nervously as Mr. Stark stopped right in front of him, their knees almost touching.

 

"You knew the rules and yet you broke them, I can't let you get away without punishment now can I?"

 

"No, sir."

 

"I told you that if you couldn't obey I'd have to help you." Mr. Stark's voice was deep and threatening, making sure that Peter knew that whatever he’d do to ‘help’ wasn’t going to be pleasant for him. "And I think I know exactly how to do that." The strong, dominating edge to the words made Peter squirm, arousal already pooling in the pit of his stomach thanks to his teenage refractory period. Mr. Stark wasn't going to be happy if he got hard again, he could already tell, so he bit down on his lip and tried to think about unattractive things.

 

Mr. Stark tipped his chin up and forced him to make eye contact, just looking at him for a couple long seconds until Peter could almost no longer bear it.

 

"Stay." He ordered Peter like a dog, Peter supposed it wasn't entirely unfitting, with the collar and all that. Peter’s eyes tracked Mr. Stark as he was walking to the corner of the room, his moves purposeful and steady as he searched through a drawer, straightening his spine when he found what he was looking for.

 

The foreign object was held out in front of Peter and it didn't take him long to recognize what it was. As soon as it clicked in his brain Peter's jaw dropped, words catching in his throat as he tried to figure out what to do or say. Mr. Stark was clearly holding a cock cage and Peter suddenly couldn't think. He hadn't expected it, but here it was, right in front of him, a reflection of his bad behaviour and disobedience.

 

"I'm going to put this on you-" Mr. Stark said simply, kneeling down between Peter's spread thighs, "-and you're going to wear it for the rest of the weekend or until I allow you to take it off." The second part of the sentence was vague at best. It could either mean that Mr. Stark might take it off earlier if he behaved himself, or that he would make Peter wear it even after he had gone home, keeping him locked up for as long as he pleased. The thought made his chest tighten around his lungs in a way that wasn't entirely unpleasant. There had to be some wires crossed in his brain for him to get excited by this.

 

Mr. Stark worked with precision and care, fastening everything in place and eventually locking him up with a tiny padlock. Peter was trembling the entire time, trying to remain as still as possible so he wouldn't interfere with what Mr. Stark was doing, but the feeling of gentle fingers touching him in sensitive places made it increasingly more hard.

 

"Alright, doll, get up," Mr. Stark ordered and Peter could only obey, letting himself be guided to the large full length mirror in the room.

 

He couldn't not look, his eyes immediately drawn to his caged up dick, hands twitching by his sides as he stared. The cage was small, small enough to fit comfortably and much to Peter's dismay it made his dick look even tinier than it already was, Mr. Stark, however, seemed very pleased with that.

 

"God, look at you." His hand came down to fondle Peter lightly, inspecting him almost, and Peter wanted to cover himself, wanted to curl up and hide, but a part of him wanted to stay, sick pleasure tingling under his skin, getting off on the humiliation whether he liked it or not. "Fuck, look how small you are, sweetheart, locked up nice and tight."

 

"Sir," Peter whimpered, not entirely sure where he was going with it, but Mr. Stark didn't seem too bothered by it.

 

"My perfect little toy, only for me to play with." Lips were pressed against the back of his neck and still Peter could not look away. "I could keep you locked up like this forever," Mr. Stark whispered against his skin, "Get you so desperate and needy you’ll be begging and crying for release. You always look so pretty when you cry." The threat made Peter feel hot all over, fear mixing with arousal and he felt his dick twitch uselessly against its confines, desperately trying to get hard, but unable to do so. It was a strange feeling, a feeling he was mostly fascinated by for now, but he figured that fascination would make way for desperation the moment he got used to it.

 

"Would you?" Peter asked, lower lip wobbling slightly as he spoke. He didn't think Mr. Stark would actually do that to him, but there was just enough uncertainty that he had to ask.

 

"Not if you're a good boy," Mr. Stark told him, "but you look so pretty like this, your tiny dick caged up just because I told you so. It's tempting, doll, it really is." Peter couldn't help but shiver and keeping his eyes opened and focused on the mirror was a sincere struggle.

 

"I'll be good," Peter promised, voice soft and delicate, threatening to tear apart at the seams.

 

"I know you will." Another kiss was pressed to his neck, but it quickly turned into Mr. Stark sucking a dark bruise on his pale skin, right above the collar, marking him as his property. "You're my good little boy. I know you're not bad on purpose, but I can't let bad behaviour slide no matter what the intentions were."

 

"I know, sir, I'm sorry," Peter said quietly and finally managed to tear his eyes away from his reflection.

 

* * *

 

The rest of the night was surprisingly calm. Peter, of course, still wasn't allowed to put on any clothes and by that point the panties had gotten far too messy to wear. He could see in Mr. Stark's eyes that for a moment the man contemplated making Peter wear them anyway, just to add to the humiliation, but ultimately he decided against it. 

 

The collar was around his throat again, Mr. Stark had fastened it in place after he had pulled Peter away from the mirror and Peter couldn't help but occasionally run his fingers over the leather.

 

Mr. Stark ordered chinese food for both of them and Peter hadn't even realized how hungry he was until he was actually eating, scarfing down the food like he hadn't eaten in weeks. He could tell that Mr. Stark was looking at him in amusement, eyes tracking every move Peter made and Peter squirmed uncomfortably, but kept eating anyway.

 

"How does it feel?" Mr. Stark asked after they finished their food and moved to the living room. Peter was kneeling at his feet, hands clasped in his lap.

 

"What do you mean, sir?" Peter replied carefully, not immediately realizing what Mr. Stark meant.

 

"The cage," he clarified, "How does it feel?"

 

"It feels... weird... different."

 

"Uncomfortable?"

 

"Not really," he answered, lower lip caught between his teeth. "as long as I'm not aroused," he added quietly, the feeling of his heels digging into his bruised ass making him squirm uncomfortably. He wanted to cry, wanted to settle down on Mr. Stark's lap and bury his face in the man's neck as he sobbed and pleaded for forgiveness.

 

A gentle hand landed on the back of his neck, the physical contact making Peter whimper softly and close his eyes.

 

"Are you tired?" Mr. Stark's voice was gentle and caring and Peter kept being surprised by how easily he flipped between being dominant and in charge to being soft and concerned. Then again, even when he was being more gentle he was still in charge, Peter figured that was something that would never go away.

 

"Yeah," Peter mumbled, the question making him realize just how exhausted he was, his body sore and aching all over, ready to just crawl into bed and sleep for a year.

 

Without a warning Mr. Stark suddenly got up, wrapping his arms around Peter's skinny body and picking him up bridal style, forcing a startled yelp out of Peter's mouth.

 

"Shh, doll, you should go to bed, it's been a long day." Mr. Stark's lips pressed to Peter's neck and before he knew it he was being carried up the stairs and back into the bedroom. "Sit here for a minute, I'll change the sheets first." Mr. Stark put him down on a chair and Peter watched as he removed the dirty, sticky bed sheets, replacing them with clean ones.

 

"Mr. Stark?" Peter asked quietly, sleep finally leaking into his voice. "Will you stay with me?" He knew it was an intimate request, asking his  _ teacher _ to sleep in the same bed with him without any sexual acts happening and briefly Peter worried if he had crossed a line, but Mr. Stark didn't even hesitate before answering.

 

"Of course, sweetheart," he replied, walking up to Peter and taking the collar off again, setting it down on the nightstand. "It'll be more comfortable to have it off while you sleep," Mr. Stark said and guided Peter to the bed, watching him as he got comfortable beneath the soft sheets.

 

Peter closed his eyes and he could hear Mr. Stark get undressed, before getting into bed next to Peter, pressing his chest against Peter's back and holding him close.

 

"Sleep," Mr. Stark whispered, and Peter did.

 

* * *

 

The next morning was drastically different from what Peter had expected. Peter had woken up after Mr. Stark had, feeling the man’s hands running over every available inch of skin until Peter felt a little more awake. It was comforting, an unexpected but pleasant change. 

 

After they had both gotten out of bed, Mr. Stark had given him a soft, comfortable sweater that was a few sizes too large and some clean underwear, something to cover him up, before taking him downstairs to the kitchen for breakfast. The collar was still sitting on the nightstand.

 

Some part of Peter had expected Mr. Stark to make him walk around naked the entire weekend, but there was something soft in his eyes as he handed him the clothes and ran a hand through his hair. It confused Peter a little, but the feeling of someone taking care of him like that felt kind of nice.

 

The smell of pancakes filled the air as Peter sat down at the kitchen table with a wince, yeah, his ass was going to hurt for a while, the promise of breakfast almost made up for it though.

 

It was almost as if Mr. Stark could sense Peter’s confusion, because his hand lingered on the back of Peter’s neck as he put down a plate in front of him.

 

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” Mr. Stark asked, fingers teasing along the collar of his sweater.

 

“I didn’t know you could make pancakes.”

 

“Well, I live alone and pancakes are pretty much essential to someone’s diet, so I learned quickly.” There was a slight smile on his face and Peter felt something close to warmth course through his veins.

 

“Mr. Stark-” Peter started, but Mr. Stark quickly cut him off.

 

“You can call me Tony. I think it’s better if we saved the formalities for the bedroom,” he paused for a moment, “and the classroom.”

 

“Tony…” Peter said softly, as if he was trying to get used to the feeling of saying his name, tasting the word on his tongue, “I’m a little confused,” he confessed.

 

“I think you deserve a bit of a break, you’re still young and I don’t want to overwhelm you too much.”

 

“Every moment with you has been a little overwhelming,” he replied, chewing on his lip, “but in a good way. I… I like it when you push me.” He looked away from Tony’s intense gaze, unable to keep eye contact for much longer, not when he looked at him like that and his hand pushed into his hair, tugging lightly.

 

“God… You make me want to do terrible things to you, doll,” Tony said softly, his voice breathy and laced with something dark that sent a shiver down Peter’s spine.

 

“I’d let you,” Peter whispered.

 

“Fuck, you can’t just-” Tony took a deep breath, as if trying to collect his thoughts. “If you ever need a break, don’t hesitate to ask, okay? What we do is fun, but I don’t want to accidentally hurt you.” There was so much genuine care and concern in those words that for a moment Peter didn’t know what to say.

 

“Okay, si-  _ Tony _ .” Peter smiled slightly when a large hand cupped his cheek and he couldn’t help but lean into the touch. It was so  _ nice  _ to know that Tony cared about him beyond just sex, that he was something more than a good fuck to him.

 

“You’re such a sweet boy,” Tony praised and Peter felt his cheeks heat up a little. “Eat your pancakes, baby.” Peter did.

 

* * *

 

After breakfast Peter had expected Tony to bring him back to the bedroom, but instead they settled down in the living room together, sitting together on the couch with some reasonable distance between them. It was only a little on purpose. 

 

Not knowing where the lines were was confusing, to say the least, and Peter wasn’t entirely sure what he was supposed to do. When Tony was telling him what to do it was easy, he only needed to obey and everything would be fine, but now he was supposed to be normal and it was weird. 

 

Some time passed, Tony had put on a random movie and Peter had pulled his knees up to his chest, only barely paying attention to the television screen. All he could think about was how badly he wanted to be closer to Tony, how he wanted to sit on his lap and just  _ be _ for a bit, but the nerves got to him and he stayed in his own spot.

 

It was stupid to expect Tony not to notice though, because not even 2 minutes later Tony turned his head towards Peter and put a hand on Peter’s cheek to make him look at him. “You can come sit with me, sweetheart, you don’t need permission to touch me.” That was all Peter needed to immediately scoot closer to him, pressing their bodies together and resting his head on Tony’s shoulder. He didn’t get a lot of time to get comfortable though, because Tony’s arms wrapped around him and he was pulled into his lap. 

 

“Daddy…” Peter whimpered, burying his face in Tony’s neck and inhaling his scent. He barely even realized the word left his mouth until he felt Tony freeze beneath him. Immediately he tried to pull away, eyes wide and face heating up with embarrassment, but Tony refused to let go. “I-I… Oh god… I’m so-”

 

“Shhh… Don’t worry about it, baby boy,” Tony spoke softly, gently lifting Peter’s chin. There was something in his eyes, so dark and hungry and shamelessly aroused and Peter started to squirm nervously. “Daddy’s here to take care of you.” If it weren’t for the cage Peter would’ve probably gotten rock hard within seconds, but as it was his cock just twitched uselessly and all he could do was moan weakly. 

 

“I really should’ve known,” Tony continued, “every inch of you is practically screaming it.” He pulled Peter close to him again, one hand slowly stroking his hair. “I’m just surprised this didn’t come out earlier.” Peter whimpered again and went limp on Tony’s lap, allowing him to do whatever he wanted. “You’re such a good boy for daddy.”

 

Once again Tony did the opposite of what Peter expected, the man seemed to be full of surprises. Instead of taking it further, maybe slipping his hand under Peter’s sweater or into the waistband of his underwear, he just kept holding Peter close to him, running his hand through his hair and occasionally pressing his lips to Peter’s neck. It was just what he needed, the soft, almost soothing touches, the feeling of being taken care of, Peter barely even minded that he couldn’t get hard.

 

“Say it again, doll,” he mumbled against Peter’s skin and Peter let out a shaky breath.

 

“Daddy…” Peter’s voice was barely above a whisper.

 

“Fuck,” Tony cursed, his hot breath making Peter shiver. “I’m going to need you to listen to me for a bit, okay? We need to set some boundaries for when I take you home, I don’t- I don’t want you to end up confused about what is and isn’t okay.” He took a deep breath and pulled away to look at Peter, clearly struggling with it.

 

Peter nodded, lips parted slightly. “Yes, daddy.”

 

“Fuck,” Tony repeated, closing his eyes in what appeared to be an attempt to gather his thoughts. “How about we do it like this; whenever you’re wearing the collar you obey me, you only do as I tell you to, but when I take it off you’re free to do or say whatever you want, within limits of course. You won’t be allowed to take off the cage, touch yourself or get off, even when you’re not wearing the collar, do you understand?”

 

“I understand,” Peter confirmed, liking the clarity that this system would give him, taking away some of the confusion he had felt earlier that day.

 

“Obviously we can’t do this at school, not with the collar, but just assume that whenever we’re at school I am in charge, unless I tell you otherwise. Are you okay with this?” Tony asked.

 

“I’m okay with this,” Peter replied, breath shaking slightly.

 

“When the collar is on you call me ‘sir’ or ‘Mr. Stark’, but when it’s off just call me Tony.”

 

“And when can I call you ‘daddy’?” Peter asked, voice soft and a little teasing as he looked up at Tony.

 

“You can call me daddy whenever you want, baby boy.” Tony’s hand slipped under the sweater, fingers trailing across warm skin and eyes flicking over Peter’s face as if he was looking for something.

 

“Yes, daddy.” Peter put his hands on Tony’s shoulders and Tony appeared to have found what he was looking for, because suddenly their lips were connected in a gentle, almost sweet kiss. Peter only briefly got to think about how Tony had never kissed him before, how it felt so incredibly intimate, because only a few seconds later Tony had pulled away.

 

Peter tried to think of something to say, a way to convey properly that he desperately wanted Tony to kiss him again, but instead he felt Tony’s hand slip further under the sweater and his brain froze. 

 

“Steve will be coming over in a bit, so you’ll have to be on your best behaviour.” At the mention of Mr. Rogers’ name Peter perked up slightly, memories of Mr. Rogers’ large hands on him, making him feel so very good, flashing through his mind. He was immediately excited, Mr. Rogers seemed to be a little nicer than Tony, a little more gentle and forgiving, so maybe he’d be able to convince Tony to let him cum anyway. He tried not to get too hopeful, but nothing went by Tony and of course the man would say something. “Excited?”

 

“Yeah, I really liked last time,” Peter confessed.

 

“I hope I don’t have any reason to be jealous.” Tony raised an eyebrow and Peter couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh. Of course Tony had no reason to be jealous, because no matter how much he liked Mr. Rogers, Tony was the one who owned him.

 

“I wouldn’t wear Mr. Rogers’ collar,” Peter said with a slight smile and that seemed to be enough for Tony.

 

“Good. Speaking of that, do you want me to put it on again before Steve shows up?” Peter had to think about that for a few moments, but in the end it didn’t take long at all for him to decide. It would be easier to let Tony take the lead, let him tell him what to do instead of having to fumble around, wondering what would and wouldn’t be okay around Mr. Rogers.

 

“Yes, please,” Peter answered honestly, watching Tony’s eyes go dark again.

 

“Wait here for a bit, I’ll get it.” Tony patted Peter’s thigh and encouraged him to get off his lap, which Peter did only with some mild complaining.

 

Tony got up and Peter could hear the sound of footsteps going up stairs, anticipation wrapping around his chest as the seconds ticked by. He stayed in place on the couch, like Tony had told him, and fidgeted with the hem of the sweater, wondering if Tony was going to make him take it off again.

 

While Tony was gone Peter started to think about what would happen when Mr. Rogers got there, how things would play out. Obviously he only had minimal say in what they were going to do, completely at the mercy of both Tony and Mr. Rogers. In a way he was grateful for the cockcage, there was no way he’d be able to control himself without it, but he also knew that it was going to be torture for him and that was exactly what Tony wanted.

 

The sound of Tony entering the room again shook him out of his thoughts and his eyes were immediately drawn to the leather collar resting in Tony’s hand.

 

“On your knees, doll,” Tony ordered and Peter immediately slid off the couch, knees hitting the soft carpet with a quiet thud. “Good boy.” Those two words always made pleasure flare up inside of him, and he knew that Tony knew how it affected him, showering him with both praise and humiliation, just to watch his face heat up.

 

The leather still felt a little foreign around his neck, tightening enough for him to feel it whenever he swallowed, but he figured he’d get used to it after a while.

 

He didn’t really know what he’d expected after Mr. Stark was done fastening the collar, but he definitely hadn’t expected him to sit down on the couch, one hand stroking through Peter’s hair absentmindedly as he continued watching the movie he’d put on earlier. 

 

He didn’t know how to feel, but mostly he just felt good, relaxed and calm, the soothing motions of Mr. Stark petting his hair making him let out a soft sigh and lean into the touch. He felt like he could stay in that position for a long time.

 

A long time ended up being about 40 minutes, his head resting against Mr. Stark’s thigh and his hands placed on top of his own thighs. The sound of the doorbell ringing made him lose that position for a bit, nerves straightening his spine and making him tense up.

 

Mr. Stark tugged on the back of the collar lightly to signify that he should get up and Peter immediately felt that he’d been kneeling for a while, his legs aching as he stood straight. “I should get you a leash,” Mr. Stark said almost off-handedly as he got up as well and Peter felt himself shiver slightly. “C’mon, sweetheart,” he urged him on, a hand on his lower back guiding him towards the hallway.

 

Peter knew that Mr. Rogers was going to show up, but it still felt a little surreal to watch him walk into the hall and close the front door behind him, intense eyes roaming over Peter’s thankfully still clothed body and eventually settling on the collar around his neck.

 

“That’s new,” he commented casually, eyes flicking up to Mr. Stark’s face briefly.

 

“Hmhm, gotta mark my property somehow,” Mr. Stark confirmed and Peter could practically taste the tension in the room.

 

“Did I miss anything else?”

 

“Oh yes, such a shame you weren’t there for it, but Peter broke the rules again.” Mr. Stark’s hand was moving from his back to slip under the sweater and splay possessively over his stomach. “So I had to punish him... again.” Mr. Rogers was still staring at Peter intently, something dark in his eyes that he’d seen in Mr. Stark so many times before. “Show him, sweetheart.” 

 

Peter swallowed nervously and looked at the ground as he pushed the soft, cotton underwear down his thighs and lifted the hem of the sweater, exposing himself to Mr. Rogers, who raised an eyebrow, the corner of his lips twitching slightly.

 

“How long are you making him wear it?” His voice was all business, talking about Peter like he wasn’t even there and Peter felt his hands starting to shake a little.

 

“I was thinking for the rest of the weekend, but he looks so adorable like this, doesn’t he?”

 

“He does… But he did break the rules twice in a row, so don’t you think that two days are a little… meager? I’m not sure it’ll truly hammer the point home.”

 

“Hmmm, you’re saying something there, Rogers, it’s hardly even a punishment.” Peter would very much disagree with that, but all he could do was stay silent and hope they’d have mercy on him. “We’ll have to talk about that later, but for now-” Mr. Stark tugged on the collar lightly again and Peter let out a soft gasp. “-I think you should get naked, doll.” 

 

As Peter stripped off the sweater, two pairs of eyes staring at him intently, he already knew he was going to be in a world of trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright i promise there will be some actual steve content next chapter, but this chapter is already over 8k words long and i just had to stop it somewhere
> 
> please leave kudos or a comment if you enjoyed it, it motivates me to keep writing <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aahhh sorry for the delay on this chapter, i've been having kind of a hard time lately and the writing has been slow, but i'll try to get the next chapter out as soon as possible!

Peter didn't think he'd ever get used to being stared at like that, two pairs of hungry eyes roaming all over his body and taking everything in. He'd never considered himself particularly attractive or beautiful in any way, but it was impossible to deny the want and desire that Mr. Stark and Mr. Rogers were so obviously broadcasting. They thought of him as something precious, something soft and delicate that they wanted to take care of, Peter somehow found he didn't mind. The idea of being taken care of was nice, comfortable, despite his fierce independence there was something pleasant about just submitting for a few moments.

 

"He looks so pretty like this, all caged up," Mr. Rogers commented, eyes now on Peter's crotch and Peter squirmed slightly under his gaze. "So goddamn gorgeous."

 

"Thank you, sir," Peter whispered softly, resisting the urge to cover himself up or fidget with his hands.

 

"What do you want to do to him?" Mr. Stark asked, one hand moving up and down Peter's side, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake and Peter barely held back a shiver. There were so many things that he wanted Mr. Rogers to do to him, and he hoped that Mr. Stark would be generous enough to let him.

 

It did appear that his earlier perception of Mr. Rogers had been quite wrong, the idea that he would be gentler with Peter, more merciful, was quickly discarded as soon as he mentioned making Peter keep the cage on for longer than just the weekend. It was kind of thrilling in a way, the lack of mercy from both of these men, owning Peter so completely, it got him hotter than he would ever want to admit.

 

"There are so many things I want to do to him," Mr. Rogers said softly, leaning in to tip Peter's chin up, forcing eye contact. "Are you going to let me?" The question was directed at Mr. Stark, yet his eyes still didn't leave Peter's face. That was another thing Peter quickly found he enjoyed, being talked about like he wasn't even there, like he didn't have a perfectly functional mouth to answer any and all questions. He figured they'd prefer to use his mouth for something else.

 

Mr. Rogers' thumb slipped into his mouth and Peter instinctively sucked on it, watching Mr. Rogers' pupils dilate. It made him feel hot all over and just a little powerful, knowing he could make him feel like that.

 

"You wanna put that pretty mouth to good use?" Mr. Stark's voice was dark and full of promise and Peter groaned softly when Mr. Rogers pried his mouth open, watching drool drip off his pink tongue.

 

"Yes," Mr. Rogers' breathed out and before Peter knew it he was being guided towards the bedroom again, one hand on the small of his back and one hand on his shoulder, gripping him so tightly, a mark of ownership. That had to be Mr. Stark's hand.

 

"On the bed on your hands and knees, sweetheart," Mr. Stark whispered in his ear and Peter immediately complied, having gotten more and more used to that position.

 

The bed dipped behind him and he looked over his shoulder to see Mr. Stark on his knees, hands spreading his ass cheeks apart to expose his sore and abused hole. Meanwhile Mr. Rogers had circled around the bed and leaned back against the headboard, thighs spread casually, an invitation. Peter felt his mouth water.

 

He wanted them to get naked, wanted to feel skin on skin, but there had rarely been a time where Mr. Stark had taken off all his clothes and allowed Peter to see him fully. It frustrated him, just a little bit, but the arousal he felt at being completely naked while Mr. Stark and Mr. Rogers were both fully clothed almost made up for it.

 

The sound of Mr. Roger undoing his zipper and taking his cock out of his pants made arousal shoot up his spine, and suddenly he was very aware of his own, trapped dick. He inhaled deeply and tried to force some of the frustration down. Mr. Rogers' hand in his hair helped with that. It grounded him, brought him back to the here and now and he gratefully leaned into the touch.

 

"Open your mouth, baby," Mr. Rogers mumbled, moving his hand down to run his thumb over Peter's lower lip again. Peter eagerly let him force his mouth open for a second time, sticking his tongue out just to watch Mr. Rogers get that look of arousal on his face again. "Such a pretty boy, how did no one before us manage to snatch you up." Peter would've answered, but he didn't think he'd be allowed to close his mouth, so instead he just leaned down to lap at the head of Mr. Rogers’ cock.

 

He almost forgot Mr. Stark was still behind him until one slick finger breached his rim and Peter let out a surprised moan, wondering when Mr. Stark had grabbed the lube. He didn't get a lot of time to think about it though, because Mr. Rogers' hand was back in his hair and he was pulled closer to the man's cock.

 

Peter was nothing if not obedient and didn't need any orders to know what he wanted, so he slowly took the head into his mouth and sucked. The sharp intake of breath was like music to his ears.

 

"You really have him trained very well, Tony," Mr. Rogers commented and Peter heard a quiet, almost mocking laugh from behind him.

 

"Clearly not, otherwise I wouldn't have had to put this on him." Mr. Stark's hand wandered down to Peter's dick and Peter whined around the cock in his mouth. He wanted to promise to be better, to not let Mr. Stark down again, but they both knew he wouldn't be able to keep that promise, no matter how much he wanted to, and besides, his mouth was pretty preoccupied at the moment.

 

The hand in his hair tightened and forced Peter to take more of Mr. Rogers' length into his mouth, the hot flesh sliding over his tongue. A second finger accompanied the first one and if it weren’t for Mr. Roger’s hand on the back of his head he would’ve probably jerked backwards and moaned. As it was the noise just got muffled and if the chuckle from behind it indicated anything, Mr. Stark was greatly amused by it.

 

“With all the times I’ve filled up your pretty hole i would’ve thought you’d be used to it, but you still whimper like it’s your first time,” Mr. Stark teased, crooking his finger slightly in search of Peter’s prostate.

 

It was cruel, pleasure coursing through his body with nowhere to go, every nerve feeling like it was on fire while his dick desperately tried to get hard. His moans were starting to get close to pathetic and they had barely even started. He hadn’t thought it was going to be as hard as it was, but every touch just wound him up tighter and tighter and he felt like he might start crying.

 

Mr. Rogers had pretty much taken over at that point, the hand in Peter’s hair guiding him and setting the rhythm and all Peter had to do was suck. It was almost relaxing in a way, if it weren’t for the fingers still assaulting his prostate. It wasn’t even prep anymore, it was just Mr. Stark wanting to torture him and with every thrust, with every nudge against that spot, Peter tensed up and whined around Mr. Rogers’ dick.

 

“Such a good boy, baby,” Mr. Rogers praised and a particularly hard thrust had Peter choking, something that only seemed to encourage the man even more.

 

He felt hot all over, aching for more, desperate for Mr. Stark to fuck him until he couldn’t think. He wanted, no needed, to have the cage off, fingers gripping the expensive bed sheets when a third finger was pushed past his rim. Mr. Stark was taking his sweet time and even the steady push of Mr. Rogers’ dick in his mouth couldn’t distract him.

 

The thick fingers kept pumping in and out of his body, nudging against his prostate whenever possible and Peter was a moaning mess, eagerly pushing back against Mr. Stark's hand. He would've begged to be fucked, pleaded and cried and whimpered until Mr. Stark finally pushed his cock inside him, but his mouth was occupied and all he could do was wait and hope Mr. Stark was feeling generous enough to fuck him soon.

 

"God, you want it so bad, don't you, doll?" Mr. Stark's free hand stroked up and down his back, fingers catching on the bumps of his spine. The soft touch was such a stark contrast to the way Mr. Rogers had started to fuck his mouth, Peter's lips red and slick from the abuse as he desperately tried to hold onto the sheets.

 

"C'mon, baby, focus," Mr. Rogers demanded, noticing Peter was becoming distracted by Mr. Stark's fingers. He tried his best to suck Mr. Rogers cock properly, throw in some tricks Mr. Stark had taught him over their time together, but it was hard when Mr. Stark had now properly started to assault his prostate, teasing it with every thrust, three thick fingers driving him wild. His body tensed up every time, feeling like he was going to burst with need, but his cock remained limp and trapped and the heat in his abdomen was close to torture.

 

"Want me to fuck you, sweetheart?" Mr. Stark asked and Peter figured it was a rhetorical question, because thanks to the tight grip Mr. Rogers had on his hair he could barely even nod, but Mr. Stark knew what he wanted, what he needed, and moments later the fingers were removed, leaving Peter sickeningly empty.

 

The loss of Mr. Stark's fingers made Peter whine, but he knew it was only to make way for something much, much better.

 

The familiar sound of Mr. Stark unzipping his pants and slicking up his dick was like music to Peter's ears and he eagerly pushed his ass back, presenting his messy hole to Mr. Stark. A sharp slap on his ass made him gasp and then melt slightly, the heat of the pain radiated through his body and it was good.

 

"You're so pretty, doll, so goddamn pretty for me," Mr. Stark murmured and he could faintly hear Mr. Rogers let out a hum in agreement, his breath catching occasionally when Peter did something good with his tongue.

 

Two large hands settled on Peter's hips and Peter had to struggle not to let out a desperate moan, pull off Mr. Rogers dick and start pleading, he somehow didn't think that would go over well. So he stayed still and he waited, something he had to get used to while being with Mr. Stark. The man loved to make him wait.

 

The feeling of the head of Mr. Stark's cock pressed against his hole was like heaven to Peter, so close to getting what he wanted, even if ultimately he wouldn't get his own pleasure. The feeling of being fucked so good by Mr. Stark was worth it.

 

"You feel so good, always so good for me," Mr. Stark groaned as he slowly started pushing into Peter's hole, the drag of hot flesh against his inner walls was impossibly good and Peter could only imagine how Mr. Stark felt every time he pushed into him. Briefly he considered asking if he could top, just once, but he was pretty sure it would only end in humiliation for him.

 

"He's perfect," Mr, Rogers commented, the grip on Peter's hair loosening slightly, his fingers carding through Peter's messy curls and briefly Peter pulled off his dick, panting quietly as he looked up at the man in front of him.

 

"Please fuck my throat, daddy," Peter pleaded softly, voice hoarse and breathy and he could see Mr. Rogers' pupils dilate.

 

"Jesus christ," Mr. Rogers moaned, disbelief and arousal bleeding into his voice, which had dropped to a low growl. Peter shivered at the sound, but didn't break eye contact, his lips parted slightly. "Who would've known that Peter Parker would be such a slut." Peter only smiled innocently, knowing it would rile him up even more. "I'm going to give you exactly what you want, little boy, going to make you cry."

 

Just then Mr. Stark thrusted in roughly, hitting Peter's prostate dead-on and Peter would've probably screamed if it weren't for Mr. Rogers tightening the grip on his hair and forcing him down on his dick. The noise ended up being slightly muffled, but he figured it still got the point across.

 

Mr. Stark appeared to have enough of taking his time, maybe it was Peter calling Mr. Rogers daddy, maybe it was the request, maybe it was something entirely different, but he was pounding into Peter at an almost punishing pace, making sure he was going to feel it for days.

 

It was almost too much, the feeling of being fucked from both ends. Mr. Rogers didn't have any more mercy on his mouth than Mr. Stark did on his hole and he felt more tears well up with every brutal thrust. All of his noises were choked off and muffled, his hands nearly tearing through the sheets as he was thoroughly used.

 

Mr. Stark's moans were deep and growly, hands gripping Peter's hips tight enough to bruise, leaving his marks on Peter's skin, a claim as obvious as the collar. It felt good to be owned, to be used, fucked until he could barely even remember his name, couldn't do anything but moan and _take it._

 

Every brush against his prostate sent sparks flying behind his eyes and tears finally overflowed, spilling down his cheeks and dripping down his chin. It was good, so fucking good, but it was overwhelming, he felt like he was wound up so tight he could snap any moment, shatter into a million pieces, but he had no doubt that Mr. Stark would be right there to put him back together again with gentle touches. The soft treatment he got after he got fucked hard was almost as good as being fucked, he adored it when Mr. Stark took care of him, treating him so gently and making sure he was comfortable. He'd never expected that when they first started but he'd quickly become addicted to it, almost as quickly as he'd become addicted to being fucked.

 

Mr. Rogers' dick felt so big in his mouth and Peter nearly gagged on every thrust, more tears falling down his cheeks as he let the man fuck his face as roughly as Mr. Stark was fucking his ass. He couldn't get enough of it, desperate to be turned into a sobbing mess by these two men who were so much stronger than him. The power difference overwhelmed him, made him dizzy and he could barely think anymore, his brain a scrambled mess. Pleasure and frustration tore him apart, his fingers itching to take off the cage, but even if he genuinely wanted to disobey Mr. Stark, he didn't have the key. He was well and truly trapped and maybe that got him hotter than it should've.

 

"Fuck, sweetheart," Mr. Stark groaned and Peter clenched around him, breathing heavily through his nose and occasionally letting out a muffled sob, it was too much, pleasure with nowhere to go, Mr. Stark was well aware of it. "The things you do to me," he added, voice becoming more ragged with every thrust, "I'm so close."

 

"Me too," Mr. Rogers said, pushing into Peter's mouth like he was nothing but a toy for him to use. Peter loved it.

 

It only took a couple more thrusts for Mr. Rogers to tip over the edge, shooting his release so far down Peter's throat he could barely even taste it. Peter obediently sucked on his softening dick, being as gentle as possible before Mr. Rogers finally pulled him off, his trembling hands wiping tears off Peter's cheeks.

 

"You're such a beautiful wreck," he mumbled, almost in awe, and Peter felt his cheeks heat up even more.

 

"Fuck fuck fuck," Mr. Stark moaned out from behind him and seconds later he came as well, cum coating Peter's insides thoroughly and leaking down his thighs when Mr. Stark slowly pulled out.

 

Peter was on the verge of collapsing, his legs shaking with exertion and without being able to cum he still felt incredibly tense and on edge. He let out another weak sob and let himself fall down onto Mr. Rogers' lap, his cheek resting against the man's thigh.

 

"We're almost done, doll, then you can have a break," Mr. Stark mumbled soothingly, rubbing circles on Peter's back for a few moments before pulling away. Peter wondered what else he could have in store for him, but he didn't have to wonder long, the familiar press of silicon against his hole once again reaffirming that Mr. Stark enjoyed making him suffer.

 

The plug was bigger than the other one, filling him up more completely, stretching his hole more than Mr. Stark's dick and he swallowed nervously. Mr. Rogers' hand was still running through his hair and Peter tried to focus on that feeling instead of the feeling of unforgiving silicon filling him up.

 

"There, all done," Mr. Stark said and made himself comfortable in front of Peter, leaning against the headboard next to Mr. Rogers. "C'mere, baby boy." And with gentle hands he guided Peter into his lap, holding his sweaty body close, their chests pressed together. "You did so well, you're a good boy."

 

Peter rested his forehead on Mr. Stark's shoulder and let out a shaky sigh. "Thank you, daddy," he whimpered. Mr. Rogers' hand reached out to gently grab Peter's, thumb stroking over his pulse point.

 

Soft kisses were pressed to his neck and Peter tipped his head back just a little, baring the pale expanse of his throat.

 

"I'm so lucky," Mr. Stark mumbled against his skin, "Even when you misbehave you're such a perfect little boy for me, always so eager to please." The praise made Peter shiver, squirming slightly in Mr. Stark's lap and he didn't have to look up to know both Mr. Stark and Mr. Rogers were smirking.

 

"You like that, huh?" Mr. Rogers asked, tracing his fingers down Peter's back. Peter just nodded slightly, because yes, he did like that, he liked it a lot. Every time Mr. Stark complimented him he felt so wonderfully warm inside, knowing he did something to make him happy was one of the best feelings in the world.

 

"Sweet boy," Mr. Rogers said quietly, "I still can't believe you managed to snatch him up," he commented, face turned towards Mr. Stark.

 

"It wasn't hard at all, he was practically begging for it every time I saw him, those pretty wide eyes looking up at me, men stronger than me wouldn't have been able to resist. Have I told you about the day I made him mine?" He asked, still rubbing soothing circles on Peter's back and Peter felt his heartbeat slow down a little again.

 

"No, you haven’t."

 

"I punished him for falling asleep in class. I definitely hadn't intended to actually do anything that day, but when he looked at me, all soft and sleepy, an innocent little boy just waiting for someone to come along and _ruin_ him, I could no longer resist. So I bent him over my desk and spanked him until he cried. I really should've taken a picture, he was so gorgeous, a complete mess by the end of it."

 

"Daddy..." Peter whimpered quietly, hiding his face in Mr. Stark's shoulder. It was embarrassing to be talked about like that, to have Mr. Stark retelling the story of how he had wrecked Peter that first time, but he knew he wasn't going to stop.

 

"He was so adorably nervous when I made him take his clothes off." Peter could hear the grin in his voice.

 

"You made fun of me," Peter spoke up quietly, sounding much whinier than he wanted to.

 

"I only ever recall complimenting you, sweetheart, and besides-" Mr. Stark leaned in, lightly biting down on Peter's earlobe, "-you love it when i make fun of you, you get off on the humiliation, you've told me so."

 

Mr. Stark was right, of course he was, and now that Peter had admitted it out loud there was no way he could get away with pretending otherwise. Mr. Stark was absolutely going to use that to his advantage in the future and Peter felt himself flush just thinking about it.

 

"Yes, daddy," he mumbled quietly and gripped Mr. Stark's shoulders just a little tighter when he felt Mr. Rogers' hand slide down to the base of the plug stretching his hole. "M-mr. Rogers," Peter whimpered, but Mr. Rogers ignored him and pressed against the plug lightly, nudging it against his prostate. A soft gasp escaped his mouth and he moved as close to Mr. Stark as possible, needing the physical contact to ground him.

 

"What is it, baby?" Mr. Rogers asked.

 

"I-I wanna cum," he whined, pushing his ass back just a little, leaning into Mr. Rogers' touches.

 

"You know you're not allowed, doll," Mr. Stark replied with a quiet laugh, "Don't tempt me to leave it on even longer, Steve is already doing that."

 

"Please, daddy, I need-" Peter started, but Mr. Stark quickly cut him off.

 

"I thought we established that _I_ decide what you need."

 

"I just-" Peter began to whine, but one firm look from Mr. Stark shut him up. "I'm sorry," he said softly and looked down.

 

"Good boy, we're going to go downstairs, maybe do something relaxing and then we're going to have to do some work, can't just abandon your homework for the weekend." Mr. Stark said and Peter nodded, closing his eyes. Someone's hand carded through his messy hair, but he wasn't sure who it was, he leaned into the touch anyway.

 

"C'mon, baby, get up." Mr. Rogers tipped his chin up to make him look at him and Peter was half tempted to let one of them carry him downstairs, payback for making him suffer, but in the end his pride won and he slowly climbed off Mr. Stark's lap.

 

His legs were uncomfortably shaky as he stood, feeling like he might collapse any second now. Thankfully Mr. Rogers hand wrapped around his waist to steady him.

 

"How're you feeling?" Mr. Stark asked as they made their way downstairs and Peter genuinely didn't know how to answer. He didn't feel bad, frustrated? Definitely. But he didn't feel bad, he felt safe and cared for, despite his discomfort.

 

"I'm alright," he replied, voice still hoarse and strained from the rough treatment his throat had received. The concerned look in Mr. Stark's eyes made him wonder if that was the right answer.

 

"If you wanna stop this you just have to say the word, okay, doll? I want you to be happy, and if you're not we'll figure something out."

 

Peter was glad to have this out, the knowledge that he could end this at any time eased his nerves and he decided to be honest. "I'm good, just a little frustrated, but it's a punishment for a reason I guess," he mumbled, "I want to be here, with you two, and I like what we're doing, even if you push me." That was definitely the right answer, because Mr. Stark's demeanor softened a little and he smiled.

 

"Good boy."

 

They ended up sitting on Mr. Stark's comfortable sofa again, Peter sandwiched between Mr. Stark and Mr. Rogers, their warm bodies pressed so close to him, large hands settling somewhere on his skin. It wasn't meant to be anything sexual and it didn't feel like that, it felt good.

 

Slowly his body relaxed and his frustration went down. He rested his head on Mr. Stark's shoulder and didn't miss the way the corner of his lips turned up slightly. He could almost ignore the plug inside him, focusing on the feeling of a hand resting on his thigh and an arm wrapped around his waist. He figured the feeling of frustration and need wouldn't entirely go away, but this was as close as he was going to get until Mr. Rogers and Mr. Stark decided to toy with him again. He was fine with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, comments are much appreciated and i also love to hear any and all suggestions/requests you may have <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> after 6 years im finally back  
> forgive me for taking ages to update. I'll try to update sooner next time, but honestly i cant promise anything because of who i am as a person

The rest of the morning had been rather uneventful, much to Peter's surprise. He had ended up sprawled over both Mr. Stark's and Mr. Roger's laps, Mr. Rogers occasionally toying with the plug while Mr. Stark ran a gentle hand through his hair. It was nice, really nice, he didn't have to focus on anything at all, all he had to do was lie down and let them do whatever it is they wanted, let them play with his body until they'd gotten their fill, which was hardly a chore.

 

Strong hands stroked all over his sensitive skin, finding all the right spots to make him squirm and moan, keeping him somewhere between comfortable and relaxed and desperately aroused. It was enough to drive him out of his mind.

 

Unfortunately all good things come to an end, and after what felt like only 5 minutes of peace and quiet Mr. Stark made him get up, telling him that they needed to get some work done. Peter knew exactly what that meant, it meant he'd be forced to sit down, his ass still red and aching from the spanking he'd gotten the day before and that torturous plug pressing right against his prostate while he was doing his homework. It was thrilling, in a way, but mostly it was just incredibly hard, very much unlike him.

 

At first the cage hadn't been all that annoying, the strange new feeling was something that fascinated rather than bothered him, but now that he was getting used to it a little bit he figured he was going to go insane if he had to keep it on for longer than those two promised days.

 

His books and pens were still on the kitchen table, pushed out of the way for breakfast earlier, and he dreaded having to do his homework as if everything was normal, as if he wasn't entirely naked except for the leather collar around his neck. The way Mr. Stark was smirking at him revealed everything, he knew what he was doing to Peter, knew how riled up he was getting and the man absolutely took some sick pleasure in it. Peter hated that he loved it.

 

"Daddy..." Peter started, putting on his most innocent voice in the hopes of making Mr. Stark go a little easier on him.

 

"What is it, sweetheart?"

 

"The plug is so big..." he whined, "I won't be able to focus if I have to keep it in. Don't you want me to do well, daddy?" He'd never really tried this before, usually so eager to please, always obedient, but he couldn't take this, and maybe it was time that he didn't blindly obey Mr. Stark for once. In a way it helped him settle into this role even more, something he didn't even notice he'd so easily slipped into over the course of the day. It was weird how comfortably it fit him.

 

"Oh no, baby boy, you won't be able to sweet talk your way out of this one, the plug stays inside your greedy little hole until I decide to take it out. I'm sure you'll find a way to focus, you're a smart boy." Mr. Stark ruffled his hair, like Peter was a little kid, before sitting down at the kitchen table, ignoring Peter's pouting.

 

Fine. If Mr. Stark was going to be that way, then maybe Mr. Rogers would be nicer to him.

 

"Daddy?" he tried again, this time focusing on Mr. Rogers, walking up to him and all but crawling into his lap. "Please?"

 

"Tony already said no, so be a good boy and go do your homework, baby." Mr. Rogers teasingly tugged on his hair and Peter whined again. "I'm serious, or do you want daddy to spank you until you learn to behave?" There was a dangerous glint in Mr. Rogers' eyes and Peter had no doubt that the man would follow through on his threat.

 

Part of him wanted to keep pushing, wanted to see how far they'd let him go before punishing him, and maybe he kind of wanted Mr. Rogers to bend him over his lap. He wondered what those big hands would feel like as he spanked him, how perfectly it would hurt and his dick twitched painfully at the thought.

 

"Peter..." Mr. Rogers sounded like he was about to start counting to 3, like he really was his parent, and Peter swallowed thickly at that thought, arousal swirling in his stomach. With a quiet groan he pulled himself away from the man and slid into his own seat, making it very clear he wasn't happy about it, but unable to draw another response from either one of them.

 

He could do this, he could absolutely do his homework with these two gorgeous men sitting next to him, there was no way this would be distracting in any way.

 

He took a deep breath and opened his textbook, hands shaking slightly, his lower lip caught between his teeth. He quickly realized he couldn't do this. Mr. Stark and Mr. Rogers were both already focused on grading tests, or preparing classes or whatever it is they were doing. Neither of them were paying attention to him anymore and it was so very tempting to keep begging until they touched him, fucked him, made him cry, but he also wanted the cage off as soon as possible and acting like a brat definitely wouldn't be helping his case.

 

So, he got to work, the ache in his ass a significant distraction, significant enough to keep him from getting any real work done, but at least he was trying. He wondered if any of his classmates had to do Spanish homework with a buttplug up their ass, and eventually decided that he didn't really want to think about that.

 

Time seemed to trickle by like molasses, so painfully slow, it felt like he was going to lose his mind if he didn't get a dick in him as soon as possible. Still, Mr. Stark and Mr. Rogers refused to pay attention to him, so caught up in their work that it seemed they forgot Peter was even there. That complete lack of awareness gave him an idea, an idea that might get him in trouble, but he figured it would be worth it in the end.

 

Maybe.

 

Hopefully.

 

Okay, so, maybe it wouldn't be worth it in the end, but it would be very satisfying for at least a little bit and Peter had never been known for making good decisions.

 

Slowly and silently he slid out of his chair until he was under the table on his hands and knees. No one moved, so either both men were pretending they didn't see him, or, by some miracle, they actually didn't see him and Peter totally had the upper hand. He grinned to himself and decided to risk it, crawling towards Mr. Rogers and kneeling between his spread legs.

 

He placed his hands on the man's knees, causing him to jolt in surprise and, holy shit, they really hadn't seen him, this had to be his lucky day.

 

"Peter," Mr. Rogers warned quietly, but Peter didn't listen and carried on with his plan.

 

With careful fingers he undid Mr. Roger's zipper, slowly pulling out his soft cock and tentatively licking the head. He didn't expect a hand to tighten in his hair, pulling him down and forcing him to take Mr. Roger's cock down to the base.

 

"Stay still, baby boy, daddy has to focus on his work and I can't have you distracting me." Peter's eyes went wide at that, the hand in his hair keeping him from moving and all he could do was sit there on his knees with Mr. Roger's cock resting in his mouth. He couldn't even protest and somehow that made it even hotter.

 

"You will be punished for this, sweetheart," Mr. Stark said, sounding almost casual, like he was discussing the weather, and Peter felt his cheeks heat up. He whimpered around the dick in his mouth, drool dripping down his chin, but he didn't try to move and Mr. Rogers let out a pleased noise, before getting back to his work.

 

It took him a while to get used to the position, but slowly Peter allowed himself to slip into some kind of trance, and eventually he managed to stay in place even after Mr. Rogers removed his hand. His jaw ached and his legs were getting stiff, but he didn't care about any of it, too focused on doing what was asked of him, on being good. The only time he moved was when he'd swallow every once in a while, something he'd been worried about at first, but Mr. Rogers didn't seem to mind, so instead of drooling profusely and making a mess of himself, he tried to swallow all of his saliva without moving too much.

 

When he felt Mr. Rogers start to get hard, after what felt like literal ages, he decided that he'd had enough of waiting around, so he slowly started bobbing his head, tongue swirling over the shaft and head until he heard the man's breathing change slightly. If it weren't for the dick in his mouth he would've probably smiled, but instead he just focused on making Mr. Rogers feel good and by the quiet groans coming from above him he could tell he was doing a good job.

 

The sound of chair legs scraping over the tile floor shook him out of his trance and when he heard footsteps he knew Mr. Stark was coming over to watch him. God, he really was in so much trouble after this, but it was absolutely worth it. He'd much rather suck dick than do homework, and wasn't that just something every parent wanted to hear from their child. He really was a model student.

 

He didn't expect Mr. Rogers to pull him back before he'd gotten him off, but he wasn't exactly about to argue, so he just looked up at the two men in front of him and wiped some drool off his chin. He knew he looked like a total mess, Mr. Stark's dilated pupils and hungry look giving him away, and Peter could only hope that he'd get fucked soon.

 

"What are we going to do with you?" Mr. Stark said, voice stern and unforgiving, which Peter had learned was never a good sign.

 

"Fuck me," Peter gasped, trying not to sound desperate and failing miserably, Mr. Stark saw right through him.

 

"I don't know if you deserve that after you disobeyed us like that, maybe we should just make you finish your homework while we go do something else," Mr. Rogers replied, seemingly unbothered by how hard he still was. Oh, he had absolutely fucked up.

 

"It wouldn't be responsible to just let you get away with this, if we do then you'll never learn, sweetheart," Mr. Stark added, a grin slowly forming on his face as Peter started to look more and more shocked and desperate.

 

"Please no,” he pleaded, moving even closer to Mr. Rogers and resting his head on the man's thigh, looking up at him with tears shining in his eyes. "Please, I want you to fuck me, I need-"

 

Mr. Stark just shook his head. "If you're going to act like a child, we'll treat you like a child. Maybe we should make you stand in the corner to think about what you've done." He said, sounding dead serious. Peter would've believed him, too, if it weren't for the way the corners of his eyes crinkled slightly, a teasing tilt to his lips.

 

"But... but Mr. Rogers is still hard, daddy, wouldn't it be so much easier to just let him fuck me?" Peter asked, looking up at Mr. Stark with pleading eyes.

 

"I don't think so, baby, you've been breaking rules left and right and we can't just let it slide." Mr. Rogers sounded like he was on the verge of losing his patience while still keeping a gentle tone to his voice. He sounded like a parent. Peter was in too deep... and he loved it.

 

"Please, I need it so badly, I want you to fill me up... the plug doesn't feel as good as you do, daddy," Peter whined, one hand creeping closer to Mr. Rogers' crotch.

 

"Peter, don't think I won't follow through on my threat to spank you," Mr. Rogers threatened and Peter immediately jerked his hand away. He was still sore from yesterday's spanking and he sincerely doubted he'd be able to handle another one this soon.

 

"I'm sorry," he replied quietly, "I just need it so bad..."

 

"We'll give you what you need, sweetheart," Mr. Stark said, pulling Peter back to his feet and gently pushing him against the table, large hands stroking over every inch of skin they could reach. Peter whimpered quietly and tipped his head back slightly when Mr. Rogers got up and wrapped one hand around his throat, his thumb rubbing over his pulse point.

 

"Just not right now," Mr. Stark continued, "you shouldn't be rewarded for bad behaviour, doll, and you barely got any homework done at all."

 

"I'm sorry," Peter repeated. Mr. Roger's slid his hand up slightly, two fingers nudging against the seal of his lips, encouraging him to part them. Peter eagerly took the fingers into his mouth, sucking on them lightly as he looked up at Mr. Rogers with wide eyes.

 

"Fuck, baby," he groaned, petting Peter's tongue and pushing his fingers further into Peter's mouth, making him gag just a little. "Such a sweet thing," he praised and Peter felt himself flush slightly, his cheeks heating up at the softly spoken words.

 

"Are you going to be a good boy for us, Peter?" Mr. Stark asked, raising an eyebrow as he pushed Peter's thighs apart until he could slide his hand between his legs, reaching back to rub over the sensitive stretch of skin behind his balls, before nudging against the plug still firmly seated inside him.

 

Peter couldn't speak, not with his mouth otherwise occupied, so he made a desperate noise that he hoped came across as agreement, his hips jerking involuntarily at Mr. Stark's gentle touches.

 

"Good." Mr. Stark said with a hint of a grin on his face, before pulling away entirely. Mr. Rogers followed not much later, pulling his fingers out of Peter's mouth.

 

"W-wha?" Peter asked, tightly gripping the edge of the table, "I-I thought..."

 

"Baby boy, you didn't think we'd fuck you right here in the kitchen after you've been bad, did you?"

 

"I can be good, I promise!" Peter tried to move closer to the two men, but Mr. Rogers' hand on his chest stopped him from getting any closer.

 

"No, you're going to be punished and then after that's over we're going to have lunch," Mr. Stark stated simply.

 

"And if you've been very good, then maybe we'll fuck you later," Mr. Rogers added and Peter was starting to become worried that the two of them had some kind of psychic connection that allowed them to be frighteningly in tune with each other.

 

"Yes, daddy..." Peter mumbled quietly and allowed the two of them to guide him to the bedroom again.

 

"Get on the bed," Mr. Stark said as they entered the room, "On your back," he added, before rummaging through one of the drawers.

 

With shaking limbs Peter started to arrange himself on top of the silky bed sheets, trying to ignore the way the plug bumped against his prostate with every minor movement. Mr. Rogers' soothing touches helped ground him a little, right up until the man forced his hands above his head, and used his free hand to start pinching and pulling at a nipple.

 

"Daddy," Peter whined, squirming against his hold, but Mr. Rogers refused to let up, keeping him firmly in place with what had to be superhuman strength.

 

"Be a good boy, Peter," Mr. Rogers warned, smoothing his hand over his now sore nipple, before giving the other the same treatment. Peter was convinced that he just loved to watch Peter squirm, but the look on his face didn't give anything away.

 

Just then Mr. Stark returned with whatever it was he was getting, which turned out to be some lengths of rope and something that looked an awful lot like a vibrator and  _ oh no. _

 

"Spread your legs, doll," Mr. Stark ordered and Peter instantly obeyed, not wanting to get himself into even more trouble. He watched nervously as Mr. Stark started to tie his ankles to the corners of the bed, forcing his legs to remain spread. Half of the rope was tossed to Mr. Rogers, who got the hint and started tying Peter's wrists to the headboard until he was sure that Peter wouldn't be able to escape.

 

The rope was soft, thankfully, but he was pretty sure that if he struggled against it too much it would chafe and leave red marks anyway. He tugged lightly on his bonds, trying to feel how firmly he was tied up and he felt a sharp spike of arousal shoot up his spine when he realized that they wouldn't move an inch.

 

"You look gorgeous like this, baby," Mr. Roger said, smoothing one hand down his chest and stomach until it was resting right above his caged up cock. That's when Mr. Stark kneeled down between Peter's spread legs, holding the mystery sex toy which, now that he saw it up close, was definitely a vibrator.

 

"How long do you think would be appropriate?" Mr. Stark asked, nudging at the plug inside of him and watching him jolt against the sheets.

 

"I-I don't know, daddy," Peter forced out, feeling his heart rate speed up, violently beating against his chest.

 

"How about 20 minutes, that seems fair to me. What do you think, Rogers?"

 

"Yeah, 20 minutes seems fair."

 

Peter whimpered and clenched his fists, staring up at the ceiling as Mr. Stark slowly pulled out the plug, stretching his hole around the widest part. "F-fuck," he groaned, breathing much faster now.

 

Compared to the thickness of the plug, the vibrator felt like barely anything, but he quickly found out that it wasn't the girth that mattered. What really mattered was how it pressed right against his prostate, leaving no room for him to squirm away from the sensations and Peter instantly knew he was in trouble.

 

With a pleased smile on his face Mr. Stark turned the toy on and almost immediately Peter arched his back, subconsciously clenching around the toy. "O-oh fuck," he moaned, biting down firmly on his lip. There was no way he was going to survive a full 20 minutes of this, it had barely even started and it was already torture, just like Mr. Stark had intended.

 

The vibrations were intense, pressing right against his sweet spot, pulling moan after moan from his lips, sweat slicking the bed sheets beneath his back and Mr. Stark and Mr. Rogers just watched him struggle. Peter couldn't tell if their dark, hungry eyes staring down at him made the whole situation better or worse, all he knew was that his dick was aching and his limbs were trembling with need, hands clenching and unclenching every so often.

 

"Daddy!" Peter cried out, not sure what it was he wanted, he just needed  _ something, _ something to dull the almost painfully intense shocks of pleasure coursing through his body and Mr. Stark gave him what he wanted in the form of two fingers pressing into his mouth.

 

"You love this, don't you, baby boy?" Mr. Stark asked, "Love having something inside of your pretty, pink mouth. Doesn't matter if it's a cock or fingers, you just love to have your greedy little holes filled." All Peter could do was moan around the fingers, eyes on Mr. Stark's face, who was looking at him like he wanted to devour him.

 

Mr. Rogers sat down on the other side of the bed, one hand rubbing soft circles on Peter's hip, while the other reached down to stroke himself slowly, getting off on watching Peter struggle. God, that was hot.

 

He didn't get a whole lot of time to think about it, though, because when he wasn't paying attention Mr. Stark's hand had snuck between his legs again and started to apply more pressure to the vibrator, pressing it right against that spot that made him see stars. He felt like he was going to combust.

 

"Shhh..." Mr. Rogers soothed, sliding his hand down to Peter's thigh and squeezing lightly, "It's okay, baby, you're doing great." Peter sobbed around Mr. Stark's fingers, trying his hardest not to bite down. He hadn't even noticed he was crying until tears started dripping down his cheeks, staining the pillow below him.

 

"You've been disobeying me so much lately that I'd almost start to think that you like being punished, sweetheart." It was an off-handed comment, not meant to be much more than something to rile Peter up a little, but now that it was on his mind he couldn't stop thinking about it. Did he like being punished? Did he like it when Mr. Stark put him in his place? Usually he wanted nothing more than to be good, make Mr. Stark happy, but he couldn't deny the thrill he got when he was being punished and- Okay, not the time for this kind of realization, not that he could focus on much else other than the way the vibrations seemed to get more powerful with every passing moment.

 

"Are you sorry for being bad?" Mr. Stark asked, disrupting his train of thoughts and bringing him back into the moment. He slowly pulled his fingers out of Peter's mouth so he could answer.

 

"Ye-es, daddy!" Peter hiccupped and the way Mr. Stark started fucking him with the vibrator tore more sobs from his throat. "I'm sorry!" He cried out.

 

"You're almost there, baby, not much longer. You're being such a good boy for us, taking your punishment so well." Mr. Rogers' voice was low and slightly strained, the hand on his own cock starting to speed up a little. The fact that Mr. Rogers was getting off on this, actively enjoying seeing Peter all tied up, somehow made it a little more bearable and his next sob was mixed with a loud moan.

 

Mr. Stark wasn't touching himself, more focused on Peter than on himself. It probably helped that Peter hadn't been teasing him with his mouth beforehand.

 

"Fuck," Mr. Rogers groaned, his hand tightening on Peter's thigh and Peter hoped it would leave bruises. He just wasn't sure how Mr. Stark would feel about someone else marking him up, but that would definitely be a fun thing to figure out.

 

"P-please, cum o-on me, daddy," Peter moaned, more tears slipping down his cheeks and that clearly did it for Mr. Rogers, because not much later Mr. Rogers' release splattered all over his stomach, painting him white and the low moan spilling from the man's lips forced another sob out of him.

 

"You look so beautiful covered in my cum, baby," Mr. Rogers murmured and Peter could only look at him with desperate eyes, shaking all over.

 

"Ple-ase, I'm so sorry!" He choked out, not sure how long they'd been going, but his face was stained with tears, his eyes red and puffy from crying and he needed some relief, desperate to be wrapped in strong arms and held while he cried.

 

When the vibrations finally stopped Peter was completely strung out, exhausted, but both men were being so gentle with him, untying the rope, carefully rubbing the red marks on his wrist and ankles, before taking out the toy. He felt so empty suddenly, his hole clenching around nothing, but Mr. Stark promised he'd fill him up again soon.

 

"I'm sorry," he whimpered, moaning softly at the feeling of being pulled close to Mr. Rogers.

 

"It's okay, baby, you're forgiven. You took your punishment so well," he mumbled, pressing his lips to Peter's neck, right above his collar.

 

Mr. Stark's hand was rubbing up and down his thigh, tracing over the marks Mr. Rogers had left and pushing down slightly. Peter couldn't tell if the man was happy or unhappy, but mostly he just didn't care, too focused on not falling asleep on top of Mr. Rogers.

 

"You're a very good boy, Peter," Mr. Stark assured him, tipping his chin up slightly to make him look at him. In his eyes Peter could see that the man was entirely serious and he couldn't help but smile slightly.

 

"Thank you, daddy," he replied quietly, ignoring the pleased feeling he got when Mr. Stark's eyes went dark once more. The day definitely wasn't over yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always kudos and comments are much appreciated <3 and if you have any requests for future chapters/fics feel free to let me know!
> 
> also follow me on tumblr, my username is @commandernova and if you feel like it you can send me prompts that i may or may not write depending on how many other things im planning on writing (but send em anyway)


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